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THE 

Road of Life 



BY 



ELLA FLATT KELLER 



15. 



PUBLISHED, 1920, BY 

THE B. F. WADE & SONS CO. 

TOLEDO. OHIO 



^0 



Copyright, 1920 

by 

Ella Flatt Keller 

Toledo, O. 



MAY 2U i920 
©•ILASTOOai 



7^ 



T Dedicate these simple rhymes 

to one who has helped me on 

''the road of life" — my husband 



INDEX 

Page 

Air Castles 97 

Among the Books 30 

Better Things, The 90 

Beauties at Home 18 

Before and After. 40 

Be Pleasant 73 

Bicycle Days 41 

Bravest Man, The 104 

Cruel Fate 48 

Christmas Time 78 

Child's Prayer, A 91 

Day's Beginning, The 28 

Duty 79 

Doing Good 93 

Endurance 45 

Everywhere 85 

Finding Time 52 

Father and Son 58 

From the Ofhce Chair 76 

Friendship's Gift 64 

Fer the Love o' Mike 99 

Farmers' Profits, The 112 

Giving 19 

Greatest of All 46 

Gold 16 

Gladsome Things 98 

How to Live 102 

Heart of Lincoln, The 20 

Happiest Folks, The 21 

He Careth 26 

Hearts 54 

Her Room 84 

How Often 91 

Her Hair 95 

Innermost You, The 69 

I'd Rather 75 

Jes' Becuz 108 



INDEX— Continued 

Pack 

Knowing Life 33 

Katydid 62 

Life's Meaning 88 

Love's Questions 107 

Mother's Hands, A 27 

My Creed 113 

Man with the Dinner Pail, The 47 

My Word 61 

Missing You 71 

Me and Lizzie 74 

Memorial Day 101 

Man's Greatness, A 110 

Mother's Letter, A 96 

Nex' Door 32 

Niagara Falls 59 

Nature's Child 70 

Nearness 103 

Old Song, The 17 

Out on the Farm 29 

Old-fashioned Church, The 56 

Our Mistakes 68 

Old Cookstove, The 109 

Perseverance 25 

Peanuts 36 

Poet, The 38 

Planning Ahead 51 

Pay As You Go 66 

Preparedness 72 

Present Age, The ' 82 

Quitters 60 

Road of Life, The 13 

Riding a la Interurban 37 

Religion 67 

Rebound, The Ill 

Regarding Spring 105 

Sulphur and 'Lasses 22 

Sometime 35 

Steadfast 44 



INDEX— Continued 

Page 

Soul, The 57 

See It Through 63 

Somebody Cares 87 

Ships of Thought 89 

Sunshine 92 

Something Wrong 106 

To Lady Moon 15 

Theodore Roosevelt 43 

Things We Can't Afford 50 

Three, The 53 

Though She Has Gone 55 

Table Warfare 80 

To Be Natural 83 

To Baby Dear 94 

Violin, The 23 

Which Are You Choosing 34 

Worry 39 

Ways of Life, The 42 

Welcome, The 65 

Whole-hearted Interest 86 

When She Smiles 100 

When Love Uplifts 14 

Your Worth 24 

Your Golden Wedding 77 

Your Job 81 

WAR POEMS 

Answering the Call 116 

Is This Glory 121 

Message to the Allies, A 120 

Message of Peace, The 126 

Not Till It's Over 124 

Questions of War 123 

Shoulder to Shoulder 118 

Soldier at Home, The 122 

Soldier's Dying Words, A 125 

To Those at Home 119 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 

nPHE road of life is like the road 
^ That passes by a man's abode; 
Adown its length there stretches far 
A surface hard, with naught to mar — 
Macadamized and builded strong 
To stand the traffic's constant throng. 
But farther on we find the clay, 
And ruts and holes along the way; 
From steep incline the rocks have dashed, 
When storms have widely shrieked and crashed, 
Their jagged edges tripping those 
Who travel with their eyelids closed. 
But on and on the roadway leads. 
By sunny spots, by fragrant meads; 
It leads us to the very door 
Through which we pass when life is o'er. 

'T'HE road of life we all must take, 
■■■ And follow every bend and break. 
We cannot dodge the places rough 
Which lie between the jutting bluff; 
We cannot tread on flowers alone. 
For here and there the briers have grown. 
We have to pass where danger lurks, 
Perchance we're bruised by jolts and jerks; 
We have to climb the steep ascent. 
Nor falter when our strength is spent. 
But after all, it's worth the while. 
For think of all that stretch of mile 
That lies so smooth for us to tread, 
And think of glories just ahead. 
On this, the road of life, we roam, — 
The only road that takes us Home. 



14 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



WHEN LOVE UPLIFTS 

]\/fY feet must choose the paths of right, 

-'• -'^ To walk with you; 

My soul must seek the higher light, 

To talk with you; 
The way to reach a noble height 

I sought of you; 
My heart is thrilled with sweet delight. 

At thought of you. 
The plans I make, however slight, 

All seem for you, 
And when I close my eyes at night, 

I dream of you. 
I long to keep the sunshine bright 

Above for you, 
For I am sure that I am quite 

In love with you. 

'T'HE birds sing sweeter — that I know — 
-*■ When near to you. 
And all the little flowers that grow 

Are dear to you. 
The breezes whisper soft and low. 

The while for you; 
The children playing to and fro. 

All smile for you. 
I see in every sunset glow. 

The heart of you. 
And all that's pure and sweet doth show 

A part of you. 
At close of life I wish to go 

Above with you, 
I cannot leave you, for I'm so 

In love with you. 



By E LLA F L AT T K E LLER 15 



TO LADY MOON 

V^OU travel by night o'er the marvelous trail, 
^ Lady Moon, 

The stars are the lighted gondolas that sail 
To light up your way, and they never will fail, 
Lady Moon. 

V^OUR cargo consists of some wonderful dreams, 
* Lady Moon. 

When the world is asleep they are scattered, it seems. 
And no one has guessed they are wrapped in your gleams. 
Lady Moon. 

I'D like to go with you when off for a trip, 
*■ Lady Moon, 

If it happened you sailed in your small crescent ship, 
I would hang to the sides if it started to tip, 
Lady Moon. 

nnO the people of Mars I would frequently wave, 
^ Lady Moon, 

If a comet we passed at a pretty close shave, 
I would pull at its tail if it didn't behave. 
Lady Moon. 

T 'LL meet you tonight at the sunset bars, 
^ Lady Moon, 

And salute the gondolas, known better as stars. 
And jump in your ship and sit close to the spars. 
Lady Moon. 



16 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



GOLD 

U AVE you sought for gold? It is found 
*^ In the meadow grass, wind-swayed — • 
Found in the daisy's heart, 

Where the sumbeams dropped and stayed. 

TTAVE you sought for gold? It is found 
*^ In a baby's lilting smile, 
In the little hand that helps 

To keep you strong the while. 

UAVE you sought for gold? It is found 
'-^ Where love and kindness blend 
In the tender, loyal heart 
Of a true, devoted friend. 



By E LL A F L AT T K E L LE R 17 



THE OLD SONG 

r\ii, sing the song you used to sing 
^^ When I was but a child, 
Aweary of the games and toys 

And rompings strange and wild. 
I cuddled in your arms at night 

To hear that sweet refrain, — - 
Its simple melody had charm 

No other song could gain. 
The glory of the summer time 

Your voice itself would tell, 
And as I caught the afterglow, 

My hurts were all made well. 

^H, sing the song you used to sing — 

^-^ That wonder song of old. 

Whose stanzas brought a message sweet 

No other song has told. 
The music of its notes and words 

Has echoed through the years 
And comforted my lonely hours, 

And quieted my fears. 
I long to hear your voice tonight. 

As in the days of yore 
When I was nestling in your arms 

You sang those verses o'er. 

/^H, sing the song you used to sing — 
^-^ That dreamy slumber song. 
The years since I have heard it sung 

Have weary been and long. 
I've learned that life is full of hurts 

That mar the hours of play — 
And after all, I'm but a child. 

With tears to wipe away. 
So hold me close and let me rest 

My head where heartbeats grow, 
And sing that old familiar song — 

That song of long ago. 



18 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



BEAUTIES AT HOME 

'V/'OU may travel afar to see mountains and hills, 
^ And gorges and canyons of fame, 
You may visit resorts of extensive renown 

Whose attractions have won them a name; 
You may stroll through the parks with their beautiful 
drives. 

And motor from city to coast. 
And visit the acres of tropical fruit, 

Of which we have reason to boast. 
But never forget, that though thrilled by the scenes 

You behold as you wander and roam, 
That Nature, in all of her moods, has a charm, 

And beauties surround you at home. 

"C^OR thousands of leagues you may sail till you come 
^ To the castles and gardens of Spain, 
You may visit the land of the midnight sun, 

Where the daylight is never to wane; 
You may gaze at the marvelous height of the Alps, 

And the cliffs of the Scottish shore; 
You may tour through the land where the shamrock grows, 

And the land of historical lore. 
To look at the blue of Italian skies 

You may travel for days o'er the foam, — 
But do not forget there is much to admire 

In the beauties surrounding your home. 

pERHAPS there's a brook in your pasture land 
^ That's as clear as a Switzerland lake, 
Perhaps there are willows that droop o'er the bank 

Whose picture a tourist would take. 
The hills that are dotted with violets sweet 

Have grown so familiar you fail 
To see where their beauty could ever be found, 

And the same with your meadow and dale. 
A tree by the roadside will often surpass 

The one in the richest of loam. 
Unnoticed it grows, because you forget 

There are beauties surrounding your home. 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 19 



GIVING 

r^ I VE to burdened backs a bit of lifting, 

^^ Lend a shoulder strong the weight to share; 

Give to weary hearts a bit of smiling, 

. Knowing well that smiles remove despair. 

r^ I VE to those depressed a bit of cheering, 
^^ Just to strengthen hope and keep it bright; 
Give to lonely souls a bit of loving, 

Love will make the lonely places bright. 

/""^ IVE to saddened lives a bit of comfort, 
^^ Point ahead where brighter paths are shown; 
Give to needy bodies food and raiment — 
Giving doth enrich, and that alone. 

TJE who gives will never be impoverished, 
■'■-'' A truth which selfish hearts have never guessed; 
Giving is the source of deepest pleasure — - 
He who gives is always richly blest. 



20 THE ROAD OF LIFE 





THE HEART OF LINCOLN 

T^HE noblest heart the world has ever known, 
•■• Whose loneliness and longings none have guessed, 
A heart of sorrows, struggling on alone, 

Was that which beat in Lincoln's patient breast. 

T^HAT big, courageous heart of splendid deeds, 
* That gentle heart, so tender and forgiving. 
That heart so often moved by others' needs. 
Could always find a joy in rightful living. 

'T'HAT friendly heart, compassionate and kind, 
■'■ That knew so well the depth of hidden grief. 
Revealed the wounds that none could heal and bind 
Save God himself in whom he had belief. 

'T'HAT heart so strong in purpose and intent, 
■'■ That wielded power in such a humble way. 
Had much of human kindness to be sent 

To weary souls whose skies were dark and gray. 

(~\ii, never did that valiant heart despair, 
^^ Whose task it was to save a troubled nation. 
And we, through him, that nation's blessings share. 
And share as well his noble inspiration. 



By ELL A F L ATT KELLER 21 



THE HAPPIEST FOLKS 

nPHE happiest folks you will find, as a rule, 
•'■ Are those who live simply and plain, 
Whose thoughts travel farther than dollars and cents, 

And farther than profit and gain. 
They're the everyday folks in an everyday world. 

Contented and honest and kind. 
Who* keenly enjoy what they work to acquire — 

The riches of heart and of mind. 

'T'HE happiest folks in the world, I am told, 
-'■ Are not among those with the cash. 
Who sacrifice honor and moral respect 

For the sake of their cutting a dash. 
There's never a wish nor a whim that they have 

Which money can buy, that's denied ; 
And life becomes tedious, tiresome and dull 

As soon as their wants are supplied. 

(~\H., the happiest folks are the homespun folks 
^^ Who labor and toil and dream; 
They find it a pleasure to live and to love, 

And to win from their friends their esteem. 
They're the everyday folks in an everyday world, 

The commonest folks, I am sure, 
They are rich, though possessing but little of coin, 

For no one, when happy, is poor. 



22 T H E RO AD OF LI F E 



SULPHUR AND 'LASSES 

T WAS hearty and hale as a kid could be, 

^ With never a pain that was bothering me, 

And there wasn't a year when the spring time came 

(So it seems that the spring must o' been to blame), 

But my mother would say in a coaxing tone. 

For she knew she would hear a most terrible groan, 

"Molasses and sulphur, there's nothing so good. 

So swallow it, son, for you know that you should." 

It was downed with a gulp, though I failed to see why 

When a-feehng so good that I never could die. 

TT was always in spring, and in marble time, 

^ When I knew but the health of a kid in his prime. 

That my mother would come with a cup and a spoon, 

While I, little scamp, was pretending to swoon; 

"Molasses and sulphur, I fixed it for you. 

It is good for the blood, and so take it, do!" 

If I had been sick I'd a-understood 

How a dope like that could have done me some good. 

'Twas a long time ago, but my memory passes 

Back to the days of sulphur and 'lasses. 

p) ACK to the days when a rollicking kid 

*-^ With a blouse that was bulging with apples I'd hid. 

To the days when I splashed through the puddles so deep, 

And wore my wet shoes till I went off to sleep. 

And often my breeches were torn on a fence 

While a-cooning some fruit at a farmer's expense — 

The fruit was as green and as hard as could be 

But I couldn't get sick, and I knew it you see. 

And I want to send word to the kids of all classes. 

To not make a kick on the sulphur and 'lasses. 



By E LL A F L AT T K E LLE R 23 



THE VIOLIN 

VIT'ITHIN its wood there dwells the happy sound 
' ' The little creatures of the forest made, 

The mellowness of light in sheltered shade, 
The sweetness of the tiny songsters' lay, 

. The moonlight as it glanced through leafy trees 
Whose branches gently swayed in summer's breeze. 
Within its wood they dwell, and every time 
The magic bow is drawn across a string. 
They waken, and again their voices sing, 
And thus is Nature heard in every tone — 
The written note is never heard alone. 

THHE violin responds to every mood, 
* The deepest thought the soul has ever had. 
The wildest joy that came to make it glad; 

As heart to heart it speaks, it captivates; 
And ever quick to alternate and change. 
It leads us on by music weird and strange. 

Impulsive and uncertain, then anon 

It tensely tells of grief; aloud it cries 

In sad, absorbing notes with yearning sighs; 

And trembling with emotion, slowly takes 

Our heart to see the joy when morning breaks. 



24 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



YOUR WORTH '< 

VVT'HAT are you worth? Are you rated in Dun's, j 

' ^ Announcing the fact you have plenty of funds? j 

Are your valuables kept in the vault at the bank l 

Where men of affairs are discussing your rank? ^ 
Have you money invested where profits are real, 

In stocks and in bonds and in Bethlehem steel? ; 

Have you gained an admittance to circles elite? j 

At the fashionable clubs are you given a seat? \ 

Do you live in a mansion with lawns stretching far? \ 
Are you driving a Packard or similar car? 

What are you worth? Have you gotten ahead? ] 

In financial affairs are you one who has led? ; 

TT is all very good and it's all very fine, j 

-■■ But what are you worth in humanity's line? ; 

What are you worth when it comes to the part i 
Of your life as revealed by your innermost heart? . i 

What is your record? — referring alone | 

To the help you have given, to kindnesses shown, 1 

To the good you have done at a period when ] 

Came the call of distress from your fellowmen. j 

Have you ministered daily with evident grace? J 

Oh, these are the questions you'll have to face. j 

You will find that in heaven, if not upon earth, I 

That by service alone will be figured your worth. ] 



By E LL A F LAT T KE LLE R 25 



PERSEVERANCE 

pERHAPS you have failed and are sighing, 
^ Are vainly regretting and crying, 
Believing there's nothing in trying 

Over and over again. 
But he who is ever succeeding, 
lias learned that in life he is needing 
To be persevering while heeding 

The ways of progression of men. 

YY/'E all of us have our reverses 
'^ ' To make into blessings or curses. 
And did we but think of His mercies, 

We never would stop to complain, 
But gladly would tackle our troubles, 
Which oft we encounter in doubles, 
And yet how they vanish like bubbles — 

Like bubbles are broken in twain. 

T^HE man who possesses ambition, 
* Will faithfully stick to his mission, 
In spite of a strong opposition, 

And never give up in despair. 
Oh, what do we need to be fearing? 
And though we care naught for the cheering. 
We'll win by our own persevering. 

By courage to do and to dare. 



26 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



HE CARET H 

TN spite of the many mistakes you have made, 

^ He careth for you; 

In spite of the fact you have carelessly strayed, 

He careth for you. 
He hath kept every promise, though yours have been 

broken, 
He hath given you comfort by words He hath spoken, 
He hath showered you with blessings, a veritable token 

That He careth for you. 



H' 



I 



"OW seldom you thank Him for blessings each day. 

Though He careth for you; 
And only in sickness and trouble you pray. 

Though He careth for you. 
Your time and your thought are for money and gain, 
And many an act of your life leaves a stain. 
And the years drift along, and you spend them in vain, 

Though He careth for you. 

AM sure that He knows it is easy to stray. 
And He careth for you ; 
He awaits your return, and will show you the way. 

For He careth for you. 
And why not go with Him where pastures are green. 
Where the beautiful things are the things that are seen, 
And ask Him to help you to keep your life clean. 
For He careth for you. 

T OOK up, weary child, there are hopeful tomorrows, 

'^ He careth for you; 

Though life hath its troubles, its cares and its sorrows, 

He careth for you. 
He drieth the tears in the eyes that are dim. 
With happiness fills up your cup to the brim. 
And asks that you cast all your care upon Him, 

For He careth for you. 



By ELL A F L AT T KE L LE R 27 



A MOTHERS HANDS 

'T'HE hands that were soft and dimpled, 
* Are weary and worn and scarred; 
The palms that were smooth as a baby's, 

Are calloused and rough and hard; 
The tapering, slender fingers 

Are bruised and stiff and old, 
And veins that were once but a tracing, 

^ Are prominent, rigid and bold. 
But the touch of those hands is as gentle 

As the lullaby words of a song, 
With a love that's divine, they have labored 

In a ministry, noble and strong. 

/^■^FT while the others were sleeping, 

^^ They mended a little torn frock. 
And worked at discouraging stockings 

Till long after twelve by the clock. 
They glued the doll's curls that were cherished, 

And fastened a wheel on a cart. 
And hoed at the weeds in the garden, 

Though blisters when broken would smart. 
They anxiously nursed in a sickness. 

And toiled o'er the heat of the range; 
When folded in prayer they pleaded 

For strength, but not for a change. 

/^NLY the mother who travels 

^^ O'er the mountainous road of the years, 

Can know with what tremulous longings 

She brushes away the stray tears 
With hands that are tender and loving. 

With hands that have never complained. 
But have lifted and carried the burdens 

Till they tremble and ache with the pain. 
The heart of the world pays a tribute. 

Oh, not to the hands that are fair, 
But to hands that are daily reflecting 

The glory of motherhood there. 



28 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE DATS BEGINNING 

CTART the day with gladness, 
^ Laughing, buoyant gladness, 
Try a little smiling, 

And learn what smiles can do. 
A heart perhaps is weary. 

With outlook dark and dreary, 
And needing just the sunshine 

Which ought to come from you. 

CTART the day with gladness, 
^ Blithe and cheerful gladness. 
Call aloud "Goodmorning!" 

In merry, bracing tone. 
Find the joy of bringing 

A little bit of singing 
Into lives whose problems 

Are harder than your own. 

CTART the day with gladness, 
*^ Lilting, loving gladness. 
Dwell upon the brightness, 

Make it fairly glow; 
Life is worth the living. 

Only when you're giving 
Worlds of cheer and sunshine 

For other hearts to know. 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 29 



OUT ON THE FARM 

/^UT on the farm where you feel you kin breathe, 
^-^ An' not eat the soot an' the germs by the peck, 
Where the Hmitless air is so fragrant an' fresh 

Thet you swaller it down with a rehsh, by heck! 
Where the noises you hear are so soothin' an' quiet, 

They're not hke the grind an' the shriek on the street; 
You never git tired of the cluck an' the quack 

An' the grunt an' the neigh an' the moo an' the bleat. 

/^UT on the farm where the corn is a-growin' 
^-^ So fast thet it moves like the hands of a clock; 
Where the faithful old collie awaits fer his master 

To give him the call to go after the stock; 
Out on the farm where they cum from the milkin' 

With pails thet are covered with lather, 'twould seem. 
An' the milk is so rich thet I often have wondered 

If 'twouldn't be easy to walk on the cream. 

/^UT on the farm vvhen the barley's as shaggy 
^-^ As little French poodles thet foolish folks pet. 
When oats are as green as the green of the forest. 

An' thet's 'bout as green as they ever will get; 
When clover, the June an' the alsike are waitin' 

Fer little Maud Muller to come with her rake, 
When the eats thet you eat are the best thet's a-goin', 

Fer where is there food like the farmer kin bake? 

/^UT on the farm when the wheat is a-lookin' 
^-^ So hale an' so hearty, all coated with tan. 
When vines of the melons are spreadin' an' sprawlin' 

An' gatherin' up juices, accordin' to plan; 
When berries an' cherries are growin' so luscious — 

Then is the time I would sound the alarm 
An' send out a warnin' to those who are ailin', 

To throw up their jobs an' go out on the farm. 



30 ^^^m THE ROAD OF LIFE 



AMONG THE BOOKS 

T 'M requested to write you in rhyme, 
■■■ On the popular books of the day, 
But how can an "Old Fashioned Girl" 

Be given "The Right of Way"? 
If "Anne of Green Gables" would try it, 

Excitement would soon be astir, 
She would find it as easy, I reckon, 

As "Opening a Chestnut Burr". 

"DUT now as for me, I am stupid, 
-'-' And do not know how to begin. 
Besides, if I failed "At the Crisis", 

They would tell "The Affair at the Inn". 
There's "The Circular Staircase" to knowledge, 

But the ascent is too dizzy for mine, 
And so I will take "At the Crossing", 

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine". 

(~\ii, many the time I have listened 

^-^ To "The Call of the Wild," and have heard 

"The Song of the Cardinal" sung. 

And the heart that's within me was stirred. 
Through "The Portal of Dreams" I would wander, 

"At the Foot of the Rainbow" would sit, 
Till "The Stars in Their Courses" would falter. 

And a cloud hide the moon for a bit. 

DUT now all my dreams and my fancies 

■^ Have flown like "A Grain of Dust", 

And I'm off for "The Heart of the Blue Ridge", 

With "The Girl of the Limberlost". 
We met as we wandered together, 

"The Daughter of Anderson Crow", 
She told us of "Strawberry Acres", 

And showed us the way we should go. 

" ]\/fY name," she replied, "is 'Just Patty', 
•^ •*■ And me and 'Dere Mable' are twins, 
Our dad makes his money at 'Checkers', 

When sober we know that he wins. 
He means to be good but he's tempted, 

He loves 'The Inside of the Cup', 
When 'Laddie' my brother sends money. 

He sneaks it and uses it up. 



By E LL A F L AT T K E L LE R 31 

" T COULD tell you a heap," she continued, 
■'■ "Of things which are 'Told in the Hills', 
Fer I reckon 'Just Folks' of the mountains 

Know something of life and its thrills. 
But I have to git back to the cabin, 

Fer 'Mary Jane's Pa' fetched the mail, 
And there might be a line from 'The Doctor' 

Who lives on 'The Rainbow Trail'. 

" LJE started for 'France' with the soldiers, 

-■^ I promised to wait till he comes; 
He'll see a heap more in his travels 

Than he could from 'A Window in Thrums'. 
'In the Eyes of the World' I am pitied. 

But 'What is Worth While' I kin claim. 
There's a big 'Heap o' Livin' in waitin' — 

When love keeps a-lovin' — the same. 

" T BETTER be goin' I reckon,— 

■*■ You're welcome to come to the shack. 
My cousin 'Lucile' who's the teacher, 

Would gladly be bringin' you back. 
It's 'Peg o' my Heart' I have named her. 

She's 'The Girl of the Golden West' — 
And 'The Vision of Joy' she'd be havin' 

If I fetched you and asked you to rest." 



32 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



NEX' DOOR 

'T'HE folks what jes' moved in nex' door 
^ Is rich I guess. They can't be poor 
Fer they gotta dog with a funny bark 
An' him an' me kin have a lark) ; 
An' they gotta Ford, an' a music box, 
An' a rockin' horse what rocks an' rocks; 
An' they gotta kid erbout my size — 
But when he's hurt he allers cries; 
An' his pa's teeth are gold, as bright 
As lanterns is when lit at night. 
An' they got somethin' wisht I had. 
But 'taint no use to coax my dad, 
The price, he sez, is more an' more 
Fer buyin' babies at the store; 
But they got one, fer there's the sign — 
See that "Reuben" on their line. 



B y E LL A F L AT T KE L LE R 33 



KNOWING LIFE 

V\/'E cannot know life till we learn of its joys, 
' ' And learn of its sorrows and troubles; 
The joys and the pleasures are fleeting, it seems — 

They come and are gone, like the bubbles. 
And yet they are needed to throw out the gleam 

That brightens the pathway that's dreary, 
And what would we do if it weren't for the joys 

That keep our lives sunny and cheery? 

Y\/'E cannot know life till its sorrows are known, 
^ ' Till eyes have grown misty with grieving ; 
The things that are sweetest in sadness are born — 

While sorrow itself is soon leaving. 
We never would know what the rainbow is like 

If all our todays and tomorrows 
Were filled with the joys and the pleasures of hfe 

The glare must be softened by sorrows. 

Vy/'E cannot know life till its troubles are known, 
' ' Till we learn what is meant by privations ; 
Till the hardships are faced and discouragements, too, 

And the puzzles to meet obligations. 
For these are the things which must come to us all, 

And no one escapes who is living; 
They round out our character, making us strong. 

And unselfish and kind and forgiving. 

l^E cannot know life at its fullest and best 
^ ^ Till we reach a complete understanding 
Of the blending of troubles and sorrows and joys. 

Which the heart of the world is demanding. 
For each has a part in the drama of life, 

And each plays it well, and is lauded. 
But Joy, as the Star, is in greatest demand — 

Is encored and loudly applauded. 




34 T HE ROAD OF LIFE 




WHICH ARE YOU CHOOSING 

' THERE are things that are good and things that are bad, 
^ Which are you choosing? 
Some make you weary, disheartened and sad. 
Some make you joyous and happy and glad — 
Leaving you memories of days you have had — 
Which are you choosing? 

'T'HERE are deeds that are right and deeds that are wrong, 
* Which are you choosing? 
Some make you cowardly, some make you strong; 
Some bring you blessings to help you along. 
Filling your life with the sweetness of song. 
Which are you choosing? 

'T'HERE'S a path that leads upward, a path that leads 
■'■ down. 

Which are you choosing? 
One brings regrets that you never can drown. 
The other, the peace and the joy of renown. 
With the promise at last of a heavenly crown. 

Which are you choosing? 



By E LLA F L AT T KE LLE R 35 



SOMETIME 

/^H, sometime we'll know why our lessons, are hard, 
^^ Why difficult problems which puzzle us so 
Are placed in our hands to be studied and solved, 

By methods oft tedious, irksome and slow. 
The answers we give to the questions we face 

Are known by our conduct wherever we turn. 
Oh, sometime we'll know and we'll understand 

Why the lessons of life are the hardest to learn, 

/^H, sometime we'll know why the heart has its ache, 
^^ Why we stand on the wreckage of joys we have known; 
With heads that are bowed and with eyes that are dim. 

We face our Gethsemane — face it alone. 
In sunniest skies there's a cloud that appears, 

In happiest songs there's a sad minor strain; 
Oh, sometime we'll know and we'll understand 

Why the heart has its sorrow, its grief and its pain. 

/^H, sometime we'll know why the pathway of life 
^-^ Has rugged ascents which are cragged and steep, 
And sharp-pointed stones which are often concealed 

By wandering trailers which over them creep. 
We are wounded and bruised; we are torn by the briers; 

We stagger and fall as we wearily plod, — 
But sometime we'll know and we'll understand 

Why the path is so rough that leads upward to God. 



36 THE ROAD OF LIFE 




PEANUTS 

T DON'T care a flip if the tony folks say 
•*■ That peanuts are vulgar, and cast 'em away. 
I know they are common, and cheaper no doubt 
Than almonds and others thet folks rave about, 
But you can't find a nut that's as crispy and sweet 
As the nut that is chanked by the kids on the street, 
By the boisterous lad and the gigglin' lass. 
And generally speakin', the public en masse. 

'T^HEY'RE valued as food from the fact they're nutritious; 
■'■ There's something about 'em thet's mighty delicious! 
They're good when they're salted; they're good in the shuck, 
In cookies and salads they ought to be stuck; 
They're fine when they're chopped and they're finer when 

ground — 
There are dozens of ways you can use 'em I've found. 
And I don't care a flip if they're common as pins, 
Fer I noisily chank 'em and swaller the skins. 

npHERE isn't a town of a one-horse size, 
* Ner a jumpin'-off place near the railroad ties. 
There isn't a counter, a booth ner a stand 
But is selling the peanuts to beat the band. 
You cannot git stung ner git disappointed 
In the hunch-backed kind thet are double jointed. 
And when they are fresh there is nothin' they lack, — 
And I'll toss you a dime if you'll gimme a sack. 



ByELLAFLATTKELLER 37 



I 



RIDING A LA INTERURBAN 

WAS tossed to the left, I was tossed to the right, 
My elbows were knocked though I held them down 
tight; 

My glasses came off, and my hat was awry, 
Things fell from the rack like a bolt from the sky. 
We kept up the plunging and leaping and bounding. 
The tracks were a-creaking, the wires were resounding; 
We whizzed by the fields at a high rate of speed, 
Till the corn in the shock was like flies on a weed. 
Still faster we went, and we jumped from the track 
Like a bare-footed man on a sharp pointed tack. 
The car was o'er heated, was smoky and stuffy, 
I jerked off my coat in a manner quite huffy, 
While things on my lap took a slide to the floor. 
And rolled down the aisle till they hit the front door. 

T SWAYED in my seat with a uneven motion, 

■'■ Was sicker by far than when crossing the ocean. 

My stomach, it chugged and turned over kerflop, 

And would not behave, though I begged it to stop; 

I chewed on a lozenge and swallowed right hard, 

For an athletic stomach is fierce when it's jarred. 

I trust that the talks about germs are but fakes, 

For liquid tobacco formed miniature lakes. 

My head, it felt dizzy, and so did my heels, 

I lost my good humor, and may lose my meals. 

The pleasure of riding is all a mistake, 

If you choose interurbans, asleep or awake. 

For you go with a jerk and a bang and a rumble, 

But you go any hour, and so why should you_^grumble? 



38 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE POET 

1_IE tinkers away at a work bench of words, 
■*^ He saws all the longest in two, 
He rivets the adjectives onto the nouns, 
And solders a stanza when through. 

TJE screws an idea till it squeaks into place, 
■'^ He hammers his verbs till they fit. 
And then manufactures some figures of speech 
By using the brace and the bit. 

TJE works at a rhyme till it makes a good joint, 
■■^ He miters his verses with care, 
He planes off the edges and puts in the brads. 
And measures the feet with a square. 

TJE crates up his work and he sends it away, 
■*^ Pretending he cares not a flip 
When editors carelessly leave out the check, 
And slip in a nice printed slip. 



ByELLAFLATTKELLER 39 



WORRY 

IT seems rather strange that we worry, 
When naught from it ever was gained — 
Conditions have never been altered, 

Nor comfort and help been obtained. 
And He who doth care for the sparrows 
Hath taught us to trust in the way 
That leadeth us out of the darkness, 
Into the sunshine of day. 

IT seems rather strange that we worry — 
We hinder the growth of our brain; 
We weaken our strength for the combat; 
We shatter our nerves by the strain. 
The heart becomes fretful and anxious, 
And things that are petty annoy ; 
We miss the sweet peace and the comfort 
Which worry has helped to destroy. 

IT seems rather strange that we worry — 
We have to take things as they come; 
The thought that He cares for the sparrows 

Ought to be helping us some. 
And worry unfits us for service, 

Brings heartaches and tears of despair, 
So let us replace it with trusting — 
Leave all to His merciful care. 



40 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



BEFORE AND AFTER 

'V/'OU used to get your candy in a box that took the prize, 
^ In courting days, 
'Twas fancy and beribboned and of course of mammoth size, 

In courting days. 
Your beau would spend his money like a million dollar swell. 
And buy the kind that nestled in a crinkly paper shell, 
For according to his notion you were quite the leading belle. 

In courting days. 

OUT now you get your candy in a less attractive way, 

'^ For you are married; 

It only comes when hubby has a little extra pay — 

For you are married. 
It's not so soft and creamy and it's pretty hard to crack. 
In flavor you are certain that it seems to sorto' lack. 
And, yes indeed, you get it in a little paper sack, — 

For you are married. 



By E L L A F LAT T KE LLE R 41 



BICYCLE DAYS 

T) ACK in the days when the bicycle craze 
■'-' Had spread till the old and the young 
Where off for a spin with a sweltering grin, 

And a visible lolling of tongue, 
I worked and I saved for the heart of me craved 

A wheel that was painted maroon. 
With a nice Christy saddle to sit on and paddle 

From morn till the dark of the moon. 

IV/fY ducats I spent and then homeward I went, 

^ *- The happiest kid in the world. 

To a post I would cling while I mounted the thing, 

Lest into a ditch I'd be hurled. 
I managed to bark every tree in the park. 

And zigzag indeed was my trail; 
If I tried to steer clear of an object, 'twas queer 

But I'd hit it — not once did I fail. 

INSIDE of a week I could go Hke a streak, 

*^ And perform like a vaudeville star; 

The people would quake when the corners I'd make 

With my hands never touching the bar. 
My wheel was geared high and I'd moan and I'd sigh 

As I paddled through sand to the hub; 
If I took a long hike on that faithful old bike, 

I was ready by night for the tub. 

Vl/'HEN a puncture I'd get how profusely I'd sweat, 
^ '^ As I toiled with that miniature pump ; 
I'd pant and I'd wheeze and get weak in the knees, 

Which proved I was naught but a chump. 
My hands would get black on the palms and the back. 

In fact I resembled a miner; 
But I'd struggle ahead though my face was as red 

As the fez that is worn by a shriner. 

/^H, those were the days when the bike was the craze, 

^-^ And we rode it from early till late. 

We thought that our speed was the swiftest indeed. 

But now we want cyclinders eight. 
Cyclometers then that would register ten 

Were speedy enough for our taste. 
Today we are slow unless we can go 

At eighty per mile when in haste. 



42 THE ROAD OF LIFE 




THE WAYS OF LIFE 

'T'HE toiling and slaving, 
*■ The buying and saving, 
The giving and keeping, 
The sowing and reaping 

Are the ways of life. 
There are moments of sadness. 
Of pleasure and gladness; 
There are moments of hurry. 
Of fretting and worry 

In the daily strife. 

'T'HE gaining and losing, 
* The culling and choosing, 
The climbing and groping. 
The dreaming and hoping 

Are the ways of life. 
There are paths to brighten. 
And hearts to lighten; 
There is faith to strengthen. 
And love to lengthen 

In the daily strife. 



B y E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 43 



THEODORE ROOSEVELT 

A STRENUOUS man, of unusual fame, 
-^ In the hearts of the people has chiseled a name. 
He was known as a statesman all over the earth. 

And admired as a patriot of sterling worth; 
A man with convictions, decided and strong. 

Who had courage to fight for them, bravely and long. 
The fighting is over which seemed but begun — 

He has gone to meet Quentin, his hero son. 

A LEADER of men — that aggressive type 
'^*' That clings to a view with tenacious gripe; 
A leader of men — who with spirit and force 

Promoted his plans, and followed their course; 
A leader of men — who on serving was bent, 

Nor figured the cost of the energy spent; 
A leader — who many an honor had won. 

Has gone to meet Quentin, his hero son. 

LJ E has gone to meet Quentin, whom proudly he gave 
* * To fight with his comrades, to die with the brave. 
Reverses and heartaches were silently borne, 

And efforts, though noble, were greeted with scorn. 
Ah, surely he felt that again and again 

He was misunderstood by his fellowmen. 
Through the portals of death he has quietly passed, 

He efficiently served, and his record will last. 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 



STEADFAST 

STEADFAST" makes us think of stalwart things, 
^ The staunch and sturdy things of every kind, 
The stable, resolute and constant things, 

Suggesting strength of character and mind. 
It brings to us the firm, decided things, 

The trusty things, reliable and true — 
Unyielding as the oak when gusty gales 

Repeatedly bombard them through and through. 

"CTEADFAST" makes us think of noble things, 
^ Abiding things which never turn nor change. 
Persistent and unshaken in their strength 

Oh, where indeed is word of wider range? 
There's not an epithet that you can use 

When mentioning a friend that you admire, 
That emphasizes constanc}^ and love 

As "steadfast" does, a word of zeal and fire. 



By ELLA F L ATT KELLER 



45 



c 



ENDURANCE 

AN the power of endurance be reckoned? 

Has an estimate ever been shown? 
Oh, what is the fathomless limit 

To the sorrow and suffering known? 
No matter how deep the affliction 

That is destined to fall upon you, 
There always are others with greater, 

You marvel — and yet it is true. 

WHEN the shadow of sorrow descended, 
You felt that your heart had been crushed, 
That the earth had been robbed of its sunshine. 

That the music of life had been hushed. 
And yet there are others about you 

Who twice, and yea, thrice on their door 
Have hung up a wreath. Do you wonder 
That hearts have been broken before? 

YOU have been so completely exhausted 
That you felt you would drop in despair. 
That you hadn't the strength to continue— 
It was more than a mortal could bear. 
Yet others have been so exhausted 

They lost, through a physical pain. 
The control of their quivering muscles. 

And yet they have stood 'neath the strain. 

AND what is the power of endurance 
As shown on the battlefield. 
Where soldiers, though mangled and bleeding, 

Have struggled their sabers to wield? 
The agonized torture they suffered 

Where medical aid was unknown. 
Was enough to unbalance their reason — 
They bore it, with never a groan. 

NO matter how stony your pathway. 
There's a promise the Lord will fulfill. 
You'll be given the power of endurance 

To cHmb to the top of the hill. 
And someone has said, you'll remember, 

(And they used better words than can I) 
That you can't have a glorious sunset. 
Unless you have clouds in your sky. 



46 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



GREATEST OF ALL 

'T'HERE'S something that's greater than knowledge ac- 
*■ quired, 

And the winning of honor and fame, 
That's greater than having a college degree 

To richly emblazon your name. 

nPHERE'S something whose value is greater than art, 
* As revealed by the work of the hands. 
Is greater than fabulous masses of wealth, 
And titles to houses and lands. 

THHERE'S something that's greater than valorous deeds, 
*■ As viewed by the Father above, 
But over the world, and in heaven itself, 

There's nothing that's greater than love. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 



47 



THE MAN WITH THE DINNER PAIL 

IT seems the applause and the honors 
Are meant for the man at the top, 
And while many a man of distinction 

Was apprenticed in factory or shop, 
The majority of those who are toiling 

Know nothing of glory and fame, 
And never can boast of the splendors 

Which richly emblazon a name. 
There's many a man in a cottage. 

Whose happiness seems to exceed 
The happiness found in the mansion. 

Where money is held as a creed. 
The joys that are real are not purchased 

With the check that a person can give, 
And he who seeks pleasure in riches, 

Knows little of how he should live. 
The praise for the man of distinction. 

Has echoed o'er hill and o'er vale, 
And why not give praise to the laborer, 

To the man with the dinner pail? 

THERE seems to be more of contentment, 
And more of the beauty of soul 
In the work-a-day class of the people. 

Who spurn to make dollars their goal. 
And why should we scoff at the worker 

Who knows of the riches of toil. 
At the men who are steadily plodding, 

Away from the graft and its soil? 
The Master was humble and lowly, 

And worked at the carpenter's trade, 
And promised no blessings on riches. 

Adornments and pompous parade. 
The working man — courage undaunted — 

Thinks little of self in the strife, 
But nobly is facing the struggle. 

For the sake of his children and wife. 
The working man — faithful and honest — 

A toiler who never can fail; 
I take off my hat to him proudly, 

To the man with the dinner pail. 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 



CRUEL FATE 

T TAKE my pen and ink in hand — 

■*• It's mostly ink — 

And twirl the turf upon my pate, 

And try to think. 
I'd like to write the learned things 

That folks admire, 
And serve them hot, like griddle cakes 

From off the fire; 
I'd like to write a masterpiece. 

So grand and fine. 
That folks would scatter thistle blooms 

Around my shrine. 
It's most essential that I choose 

A subject, though, 
And that's the thing, it seems to me, 

That bothers so. 

IT'S not because I cannot write 

^ That I'm not noted. 

That I'm not down with famous folks 

And often quoted. 
It's just because the subjects good 

Have all been captured 
By Jimmie Riley and the rest 

Who felt enraptured; 
And I was born a little late 

To get a grab, 
A pity, too, — for I possess 

The gift to gab. 
Could be a poet laureate 

As well as not. 
And scatter ink on linen pads 

As thick as shot. 

'T'HERE'S not a lawyer smart enough 
^ To push my claim. 
And make it possible for me 

To win some fame. 
If I had subjects I could write 

To beat the band; 
My work, of course, would always be 

In great demand. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 



49 



V 



The urgent letters for my "pomes" 

Would come by pecks ^ 
And I would need a drygoods box 

To hold my checks. 
The editors would travel far 

With offers fine 
Contained in contracts which they'd beg 

Of me to sign. 

^HE world would canonize my words, 

And make me famous, 
And no one then (as now) would say, 

"An ignoramus!" 
They'd capture beetles from my lawn, 

And salt them down, 
And sell them for a pot of gold. 

And win renown. 
The grass I crush beneath my feet, 

They'd stoop and pluck, 
And keep it for a souvenir 

To bring them luck. 
Oh, I can see how I'd be known — 

But it's too late — 
The subjects all were gobbled up — 

Ah, cruel Fate! 

I'M not a plagiarist, you bet, 

^ So you can see, 

I cannot write; there's nothing left 

From A to Z. 
Fm handicapped for other work, 

For it is true 
Success will only come with things 

You want to do. 
The only wish my heart has known 

Is just to write; 
With subjects scarce, I'm out of work 

From morn till night. 
The world is stricken down with grief, 

Because, it seems. 
My fertile brain must idle be. 

For lack of themes. 



50 THE ROAD OF LIFE 





THINGS WE CAN'T AFFORD 

Tl/'E can't afford to speak a word 
^ ' That is not kind and true, 
And we must watch lest we forget 
The good a word can do. 

"Iy\/'E can't afford to dwell upon 
^ ^ Our little trials and sorrows, 
'Tis better far to think about 
The sunshine of tomorrows. 

Vl/E can't afford to drift along 

' Without a noble aim. 
For every life that touches ours 
Will have a rightful claim. 

"Y^E can't afford to live a day, 
' ^ Without a goodness shown 
To some poor, tired and weary heart 
That trudges on alone. 

A ND least of all can we afford 
-^ The careless way of living, 
And not look up and thank the One 
Who blesses us with giving. 



By E LLA F L AT T KE L LE R 51 



PLANNING AHEAD 

/^'ER the bridges of dreams there were longings that 

^-^ spanned, 

In the days of our youth, when we hopefully planned. 

We lived in the future because we had learned 

That it promised the riches for which we yearned. 

■I^HAT then was the future is now the today, 
' ^ And still we are planning the very same way ; 
We are planning ahead for the years that ensue — 
There are wonderful things we are planning to do. 

"lA/'E believe there's a time, just a little beyond, 
^ ^ When Fortune and Luck to our plea will respond. 
When success shall be ours, and we faithfully cling 
To the hopes of our youth and to all that they bring. 

"DUT while we are planning the coming tomorrows, 
-'-' We think of their pleasures, but not of their sorrows; 
We plan for their comforts and joys, till it seems 
That the heart of us lives in our beautiful dreams. 

"IV/'E say for the future we're making our plans, 
^ ' But what of the future in heavenly lands? 
Has the soul been included? Or are we engrossed 
In the things of the world which mean little at most? 



52 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



FINDING TIME 

WE find the time to do the things 
We really want to do, 
We're pretty apt to crowd them in 

Before the day is through, — 
Like certain letters that we write. 

And certain books we read, 
And certain folks we go to see 

Who keep our spirits keyed. 
Distasteful things are put aside, 

"For lack of time," we state. 
And pleasant things are quickly done — 

And that's a human trait. 

"I^HEN someone asks if we'll assist 
'^ '^ In keeping up some work. 
We claim that it's a worthy cause, 

And no one ought to shirk. 
We give a strange and puzzled look, 

Our eyebrows start to climb, 
We shake our head regretfully, 

And say — we haven't time. 
It seems to be quite popular 

To make this frail excuse. 
And though, perhaps, it's often true,— 

The phrase has stood abuse. 

'HE churches have committee work. 

Soliciting and such, 
Which folks who have the most of time 

Refuse, it seems, to touch. 
It's always done by busy folks 

Who seem to find a way 
Of managing the extra tasks. 

Without a word to say. 
And when we claim we haven't time. 

Let's ask if it be true, — 
You know we seem to find the time 

For things we want to do. 



T' 



By ELLA FL ATT KELLER 53 



THE THREE 

" VTAME the most beautiful things in the world, 
■'■^ Confining the number to three; 
You mustn't consider invisible things, 
But the tangible things you can see." 

A ND this is what someone has asked me to do. 
-^ It sounds like the easiest task. 
But the world is so full of the beautiful things — 
What shall I mention? I ask. 

I'VE pondered them over, and now will announce 
-*• My decision is ready, and maybe 
You, too, will agree my selection is good: 
A diamond, a rose, and a baby. 

A DIAMOND — with colors prismatic that flash — 
■^ So flawless and perfect and pure. 
Resembling a quivering drop of the dew. 
But adamant, made to endure. 

A ROSE — with its beauty and fragrance and charm- 
■^^ The pride of the blossoming world, 
Inspiring the poet and work2r of art 
With petals but partly unfurled. 

A BABY — the heavenly flower with a soul — 
'^*' A baby — so dimpled and sweet — 
Just cooing and smiling, a bundle of love — 
Oh, what is there dearer to greet? 

I'VE named you the three I selected with care, 
■■■ A diamond, a baby, a rose; 
If others surpass them in beauty and charm, 
I haven't a record which shows. 



54 . THE ROAD OF LIFE 




HEARTS 

TN spite of different wants and needs, 
-'• Of different doctrines, different creeds. 
Of different plans and hopes and dreams 
With which our being fairly teems; 
In spite of purposes and aims. 
Dissimilar in all their claims. 
And varied habits, bad and good. 
Whose strength is never understood; 
In spite of different ways of living. 
Of thinking, loving, serving, giving, 
A marked resemblance you will find 
In every heart of humankind. 

THHERE'S not a heart but has its ache, 
* But suffers for another's sake. 
But knows of pleasures, unrestrained. 
By which its happiness is gained; 
There's not a heart that's free from care, 
That's free from hours of deep despair. 
And none so cheerful but have known 
The longing cry for comfort shown; 
There's not a heart that bravely beats 
But has to face its own defeats. 
A marked resemblance you will find 
In every heart of humankind. 

'T'HE little things which hurt and fret, 
■*■ The kindly things we can't forget. 
The wounds inflicted, sore and deep. 
The mem'ries sweet for us to keep. 
The joys and pleasures manifold 
Have come to each. And we are told 
That other hearts are better known 
If we but understand our own. 
If we but daily bear in mind 
That every heart of humankind 
Is similar to ours, we then 
Can better serve our fellowmen. 



By E L L A F L AT T KE LLE R 55 



THOUGH SHE HAS GONE 

nn HOUGH she has gone, the very atmosphere, it seems, 
^ Is laden with a sweetness such as found in dreams 
Of summer gardens where the fragrant roses grow — 
The sunshine is her presence, felt where'er I go. 

'y HOUGH she has gone, at eventime we often talk, 
-"^ As down the old familiar garden path we walk. 
I hum to her the song she used to love to hear. 
And tell her all my joys and hurts — she seems so near. 

'y HOUGH she has gone, I know that oft she takes my 
*^ hand. 

Her mother-heart has never ceased to understand. 
In lonely hours I catch the glimpses of her smile. 
It helps me bear my grief, so keenly felt the while. 

'T'HOUGH she has gone where nevermore are sorrow and 
^ despair. 

Her light, her smile, her love I find are everywhere. 
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou didst leave them here with 

me 
To help me be the child that she wouldst have me be. 



56 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE OLD-FASHIONED CHURCH 

VTEAR the bank of a turbulent river, 

■'■^ Where the forest lay darkened and lone, 

And the zigzagging trail of the Indian 

Was the only one then that was known, 
There was builded a church by a people 

Who were willing the hardships to face, 
For the freedom of home and religion — 

The inherited right of the race. 

TT was not what is known as pretentious, 
* It was quaint and old-fashioned, it seems. 
And was built from the logs of the forest. 

With logs for the siding and beams. 
The walls were not tinted and frescoed. 

And the windows not leaded and stained; 
No enormous pipe organ gave music, 

Not a voice in the choir had been trained. 

TT was one of the first of our churches, 
*- And the people, so simple and plain. 
Had the faith of the olden disciple, 

Who considered to suffer was gain. 
And even today you will notice — 

I say it again and again — 
That the chapels and missions are teaching 

Salvation to children of men. 

X/'OU may search through the wealthiest cities, 
* Where the temples of marble are built, 
With electrical showers to illumine 

The gorgeous display of the gilt; 
You may listen to classical music. 

And the studied expressions of prayer. 
You may sit in the pews with the others — 

With the satins and silks that are there; 

p)UT you never will find in your searching, 

'^ A truer religion, I know, 

Than the kind that is found in a mission. 

Where there's nothing of sham and of show. 
The old-fashioned church, I am thinking. 

Is the one where the Christ would be found. 
If He were in person among us. 

And was passing His blessings aroimd. 



By E L L A F L AT T K E LLE R 57 



THE SOUL 

A SOUL was given you when first you breathed, 
-^ A soul to keep through endless time, 
A soul whose destiny is yours to make — 
The downward fall, or upward climb. 

IMMORTAL soul! Beyond the mind of man 
■'■ To comprehend; beyond the power 
Imagination's boundless scope doth give — 
The gift of God, the heavenly dower. 

" A ND God so loved the world He gave His son — " 
"^*' How high the value of a soul ! 
He deemed it worthy of so great a price; 
He left it free to seek its goal. 

''yiS yours, the only thing you wholly own; 

•*■ You fail to realize its worth. 
When aimlessly you spend your time and strength 
To gain the tinsel things of earth. 

THHEN pause, O weary one, and choose the right; 
■'■ Direct your way while yet there's time; 
And make the grandest effort of your life 
To lift your soul to heights sublime. 



58 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



FATHER AND SON 

npHERE'S a bond that is strong, a comradeship rare 
-'■ That seems to exist between father and son; 
The father gives guidance, protection and care, 

And is proud of the faith and the confidence won. 
In return he is given the spirit of youth, 

And that which can stimulate, quicken, inspire; 
He endeavores to walk in the pathway of truth. 

That the standard of right for his son may be higher. 

T^HEY seem to be chums in a comradely way, 
■'■ A keen understanding between them exists; 
Though seldom demonstrative, no one can say 

That trust and reliance have e'er gone amiss. 
There's a tie that is sacred, a fellowship real, 

A friendship so strong it will stand any test. 
In silent devotion they know and they feel 

That shoulder to shoulder they're walking abreast. 



By E LLA F LAT T KE LLE R 59 



NIAGARA FALLS 

" T-JE spake and it was done." In mad abandon 

*^ Waters rushed, unchecked, nor once have halted; 
The mighty, foaming stream has onward swirled, 
Incessantly has tossed and leaped and vaulted. 

A7[flTH gaining impetus the torrents dash, 
^ ^ With speed, all furious, to reach the brink 
And make that fearful, wild, majestic plunge; 

With headlong pitch and deafening roar, to sink. 

npO sink, to rise, to pound against the rocks; 
*- To rise and fall and roughly roll and thrash; 
And thirty feet to leap 'tween canyon walls. 

And in the Whirlpool's circle swish and lash. 

THHE rugged picturesqueness of the gorge — 
■'■ Its massive rocks which tower to lofty height, 
Magnificent in splendor, still appear 

As wildest dreams of beauty brought to light. 

ADHERE waters plunge the silvery mists arise, 
^ ^ And rainbows clearly span, on sunlit days. 
While man, astounded by the wonders seen. 
In awe and reverence doth stand and gaze. 



60 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



QUITTERS 

" "p\ON'T be a quitter," is splendid advice when applied 

-*-^ To cases it fits, but nevertheless there's a side 
We ought to consider. We need to be sure we have found 
A circular hole if our life is a peg that is round. 

IT'S time that we quit if we aimlessly live in a groove, 
With chances arising, unheeded, by which to improve; 
Quit and demand what is bigger and better, and then 
We'll find possibilities over and over again. 

T^ON'T be contented with anything less than your best; 
^-^ Prove your efficiency when you are put to the test. 
Show what you're made of, and make the advancement you 

should ; 
Go on a strike with yourself, and resolve to make good. 

I TAKE off my hat to the man who is known to have pluck, 
Who fights his reverses and doesn't complain of his luck, 
Who gives opportunity plenty of freedom and scope, 
And tries to attain what in youth was his dream and his 
hope. 

■p\ON'T be so firm a "stand-patter" you never advance, 
•*-^ Watch for a way to improve and then jump at the 

chance. 
Often we need to have courage and spirit and grit 
To show to our friends we are wrong and are ready to quit. 

■\^E ought to be quitters from habits we've slowly ac- 
^ ' quired — 

The kind that are always condemned and are never desired. 
There is credit to one who will quit, and a round of applause 
For one who will quit for a purpose and quit for a cause. 



B y E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 61 



MY WORD 

T WANT it said of me I kept my word, 
* My promise was as good as any oath; 
And' though the unexpected intervened, 
To alter an agreement I was loath. 

I WANT it said of me that I was known 
-'■ As one on whom a person could depend; 
That confidence was placed in what I said, 

By those of mere acquaintance and by friend. 

T WANT it said of me when I am gone, 

^ That though mistakes were many which occurred, 

I held the value of a promise high. 

And never did I fail to keep my word. 



62 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



KATYDID 

'T'HE women folks may talk, debate, 
^ And earnestly expostulate; 
May start discussions long and heated, 
Nor once admit when they're defeated, — 
But not to be compared are they 
With what is heard at close of day, 
When katydids announce the fact. 
In voices shrill and rather cracked, 
That Katy did, Katy didn't, 

Katy did, Katy didn't. 

Did! 

Didn't! 

'T'HE music box beneath their wings 
* Is cranked until it squeaks and sings. 
And every night they start afresh 
With all persistent doggedness; 
Unceasingly they argufy. 
Till they're so weak they up and die. 
At once their children take their places. 
With wrath upon their saucy faces; 
They switch their pointed tails around, 
And make the same familiar sound, 

Katy did, Katy didn't, 

Katy did, Katy didn't. 

Did! 

Didn't! 

'T'HE little buggers rather scrap 
■*■ Than play or eat or take a nap; 
The only pleasure of their life 
Is in hostility and strife. 
They fight with words, but not with blows, 
Their relatives, their only foes. 
Unmoved in their opinions still. 
Their arguments are loud and shrill, 

Katy did, Katy didn't, 

Katy did, Katy didn't. 

Did! 

Didn't! 



B y E L L A F L AT T K E L L E R 63 



SEE IT THROUGH 

TF you start to do a thing, 
■'■ See it through; 
Satisfaction it will bring, 

Big and true. 
Buckle down and persevere, 
Stick it out, and do not fear. 
You'll be stronger all the year, 

If you do. 

YY/'HEN a promise you have made, 
' ^ See it through. 
Do not let your honor fade 

Out of view. 
Make it known your word is good. 
Hold it high the way you should, 
Others know when you have stood 

Ever true. 

A IM at morn to reach a height, 
^^ Do it, too; 
Live the day and live it right. 

Till it's through. 
Strength to fight the deeds of wrong. 
Cheer that helps the hours along, 
Love that fills the heart with song 

Come to you. 

A/fAKE your plan to go to heaven, 

-'■ -■■ See it through; 

Only hope of joy that's given — 

Oh, it's true! 
Why not dodge the ways of sin. 
Fight them down and fight to win. 
Then you'll hear the "Enter in," 

Said to you. 



64 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



FRIENDSHIP'S GIFT 

T BRING you a bit of a sunset sky, 
■^ And a sip of the day-break dew, 
I bring you a spray from the mignonette. 

For they all are a part of you; 
A cluster of grasses from out the field, 

Graceful and bending are they, 
A vine from a sheltered woodland slope, 

And clovers from over the way. 

T BRING you the strength of the mountain's base, 
^ And the steadfastness of the blue, 
I bring you the peace of the twilight hour, 

For they all are a part of you; 
A kindly thought and a kindly word, 

A purpose defiantly strong. 
An encouraging voice that speaks of hope. 

And music of old-time song. 

T BRING you the blessing of cheerfulness, 
•*■ And a faith and a trust that are true, 
I bring you the shelter and joy of love. 

For they all are a part of you; 
Patience, and courage, and thoughtfulness. 

And truth, unchanging and clear. 
The sweetness of all that is noble and good — 

Whatever the heart holds dear. 



B y E L L A F LAT T KE L LE R 65 



THE WELCOME 

AND when I went home to see mother — 
'^~*- The soft, tender Ught in her eyes, 
The chnging embrace, and the kisses, 

The tears in her voice which would rise 
To show me how sweet was the welcome, 

The heart of her always the same. 
The joy that was childlike — all told me 

That she was so glad that I came. 

AND when I go home to see mother — 
■^^ The heavenly home it will be — 
Her voice will be sweet with its welcome. 

Her arms will be waiting for me. 
In spite of the heartache and loneness, 

I find I am comforted some 
By the thought, as of old, she'll be smiling, 

For she will be glad when I come. 



66 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



PAY AS YOU GO 

TF you pay as you go it is easy to know 

* When expenses are ruled by your means, 

And if steak is so high that you oughten to buy, 

It is time to try weiners and beans. 
Though it's well understood that your credit is good, 

No reason is that to get trusted; 
There is honor, you bet, for the man out of debt, 

Though many a day he is busted. 

A MERCHANT will say he can wait for his pay — 
-^*' He wants you to start an account. 
He knows very well it's a good way to sell. 

For you buy in a larger amount. 
But woe to the check that's a goner, by heck. 

In an hour from the time you receive it; 
When you pay for "dead horses" you're filled with remorses, 

And those who have tried it believe it. 

T^HE installment's a plan that's a curse to a man, 
^ And the "dollar-a-week" is the bait; 
When you figure it out you can see without doubt 

That it's better to save and to wait. 
For there's many a guy who's so crooked and sly 

That he dodges his payments, at best, 
And to cover the loss it's decreed by the boss 

That he stiffen the price for the rest. 

'T'HE temptation is great when you know you must wait 
^ To possess what you covet and need, 
But you can't go to smash if you're buying with cash, 

And to "charge it" is not a good creed. 
If you pay as you go you will very soon know 

It's a mighty good sort of a stunt. 
And the world you can face, and with never a trace 

Of a measly old debt to confront. 



By E LLA F L AT T KE LLE R 67 



RELIGION 

"VIT'E'RE apt to dwell long on the doctrines and creeds 
'^ '^ Of various peoples with similar needs. 

/^N principles false we are apt to lay stress, 
^^ While those of importance are figured as less. 

Vl/E shake our heads doubtfully when we have found 
' ' A portion of scripture we cannot expound. 

(~\^ precepts and dogmas we talk and debate, 
^-^ Maintaining the hope they will settle our fate. 

IX/'E try to make hard what is simple and plain, 
^ ' And grope for the truth which is easy to gain. 

"I^E need but to love, and to trust, and obey, 
^ ^ For religion is merely the finding the way. 



68 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



OUR MISTAKES 

'T'HE mistakes and the errors that other folks make 
■■• And the visible wrongs that they do, 
Are apt to be larger than those of our own, 

When viewed from our own point of view. 
The standard of right that is held in our heart 

Determines the judgment we pass 
On the errors committed in everyday life. 

By the people about us en masse. 

'\A/'E criticise people for blunders they make, 
^ ^ And harshly condemn them for falling, 
Forgetting that we, in a different way. 

Are making mistakes quite appalling. 
We are told in the bible 'tis easier far 

In the eye of another to see 
The mote that is there, than the beam in our own, 

From which we ought first to be free. 

CO let us be kind in the judgment we pass 
^ On the errors that others are making. 
For ours may be equally bad, as a whole, 

Requiring our strength in forsaking. 
Though we make our mistakes and must suffer thereby, 

The morn brings another beginning 
In which we may struggle with courage renewed. 

To diminish the ways of our sinning. 



By E L L A F LAT T KE LLE R 69 



THE INNERMOST YOU 

'T'HE people with whom you are daily in touch 
-*■ May feel that they know 
The kind of a life you are living today, 

As you go to and fro. 
But much that is good and much that is bad 

Is hidden from view 
By the mask that you wear that is sure to conceal 

The innermost you. 

A/'OUR thoughts, in a general sort of a way, 
' May be stamped on your face, 
But there's many a thought that has entered your heart 

That no one can trace; 
There's many a motive and many an act 

That never is known, 
Not even by those who are sharing your life, — 

The secret's your own. 

A RE there things in your life the discussion of which 
-^*- You prefer to avoid? 
Would it please you if all of the truth were revealed, 

And the mask were destroyed? 
There is much you can keep from the others, no doubt. 

But there's nothing you do. 
And nothing you think that can ever be kept 

From the innermost you. 



70 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



NATURES CHILD 

''FHE great out-of-doors is her college, 
■'• The valleys and hills are her books; 
There's music of birds in her laughter, 

Her voice has the tinkle of brooks. 
Her smile is as broad as the prairie, 

As sunny as gold that is seen 
In the heart of the daisy that brightens 

The stretch of the meadows of green. 

"LJ ER step is as light and as airy 
■'-'■ As the bird that is fleetest of wing; 
Her manner as charming and pleasing 

As the blossoming hillsides of spring. 
The wonderful blue of the heavens 

Is the shade of the blue of her eyes. 
The light that is gleaming within them 

Is the light of the sunset skies. 

"LJER hair, like the wheat of the harvest, 
^^ Is yellow with sunshine, it seems; 
Her heart is as rich in possessions 

As a landscape in summery dreams. 
There's a bit of the wildwood about her, 

As she wanders so free and unspoiled, — 
A child, midst the beauties of Nature, 

With a soul that has never been soiled. 



By E LLA F LAT T KE LLE R 71 



MISSING YOU 

T KNEW all the time I would miss you, 

■*■ Would miss the bright light of your smile- 

The wonderful tenderness of it 

Which quickened my heartbeat the while. 

T KNEW I would miss your sweet laughter — 
-'• Its music delighted me so — 
And miss all the cheer and the comfort 
Which only your words could bestow. 

T KNEW that again I would listen 
■'• To catch the first sound of your voice, 
There's something caressing about it 
Which causes my heart to rejoice. 

T KNEW all the time I'd be lonely, 
■^ I knew I would wish you were here; 
Your presence to me is the sunshine, 
Your absence a cloud that is drear. 

T KNEW, little girl, I would miss you, 
-*■ Would miss you in many a way. 
But I never once dreamed I could miss you 
The way that I miss you today. 



72 T H E RO AD OF LI F E 



PREPAREDNESS 

nPHERE are times in life when we have to step 
* From a sunUt path to the bleak ascent 
Of a stony road where the tangled briers 

Encircle and catch till our flesh is rent. 
With watchful care we must choose our way, 

Nor shp nor fall as we bhndly climb; 
We must be prepared on the sunlit path 

For the briers that come at an unknown time. 

OECAUSE we know that the happy hours 
^ Are often changed by a sudden grief, 
Our hearts have need of a large supply 

Of faith and hope for their own relief. 
Because we know that many a storm. 

All unexpected and unforeseen, 
Is ours to face, we must be prepared 

With chart and compass when gales are keen. 

nPHERE are times in life when the chance is given 
■'■ To make advancement and win success. 
To fail is proof of our own defeat 

In the little things we considered less. 
At close of life when the sunset skies 

Reflect the glories we once have shared. 
It matters not if our name be known. 

But it matters much if we go prepared. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 



73 



BE PLEASANT 

BE pleasant! 
There's nothing gained by being gruff, 
Acknowledging you're in a huff, 

And getting crusty; 
Unless your smiler's kept in use 
It soon will show it's had abuse. 
By getting rusty. 

BE pleasant! 
Obliging folks whose ways are kind 
And outward friendly always find 

The sunny side; 
While those ill-humored, cross and glum, 
With grouchy spells that make them dumb, 
In gloom abide. 

BE pleasant! 
The world has need of sun and cheer. 
For always there's a heart that's drear 

And in distress. 
A pleasing manner and a smile 
Do more to help a life the while. 
Than you can guess. 



74 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



ME AND LIZZIE 

T 'M tired when I git home at night, 
■'■ And Hke to sit and read, 
And let the bloomin' work alone. 

Although it goes to seed. 
But no, I gulp my supper down 

In order to git busy 
And try and solve the mysteries 

Of little old tin Lizzie. 

'T'HERE seems to be a kind of knock 

* That makes my temper boil, 
And so I test the cylinders 

And also test the coil; 
I clean the commutator good, 

And tear the wiring loose. 
The carburetor I adjust 

To find what raised the deuce. 

T TAKE the carbon from the plugs, 
■■• The valves of course I grind, 
I oil her up until the smoke 

Is trailin' off behind. 
Although my face is daubed with grease 

Beyond a recognition, 
I cannot quit until I find 

What ails the blamed transmission. 

'T'HE differential has a groan 

* I do not like to hear, 
And so I spend a night or two 

A-fussin' in the rear. 
I find some bearings badly worn. 

Of that I'll merely speak, 
But let me mention what is worse — 

A radiator leak! 

A ND when I think my car is fixed 
■^^ And troubles at an end, 
I get a puncture far from home, 

And have a tire to mend. 
I jack the wheel and fuss an hour. 

With chances mighty slim, 
The casing that I thought was good. 

Is cut around the rim. 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 75 

T LIKE to have my engine talk, 
-'• But not talk back, you see, 
And when I give her extra juice 

I want her up a tree. 
The bigger cars are often ditched. 

And me and Lizzie find 
'Tis easy with a rope er chain 

To drag 'em 'long behind. 

A ND while it takes a lot of time 
* -^ And makes me feel like swearin' 
To keep my bus in runnin' shape, 

You need not think I'm carin'. 
I would not trade her for a farm, — 

I'll ride until I'm dizzy. 
And whiz through dust and slush and mud 
In faithful old tin Lizzie. 



FD RATHER 

I'D rather hoe a little hill of beans 

^ And do it right, 

Than poorly cultivate a field of corn 

From morn till night. 
I'd rather hit a tack upon the head. 

And send it straight. 
Than bend the largest spike with glancing strokes 

At faster rate. 

I'D rather be a loser in the game 

* And play it fair; 

I'd rather count my blessings than complain 

At things to bear. 
I'd rather know I kept my self-respect 

By honest dealings, 
Than know I marred my honor, sense of right, 

And finer feelings. 



76 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



I 



FROM THE OFFICE CHAIR 

T SAT in my swivel office chair, 

*^ The work on my desk lay waiting there; 

Someone had hung in prominent view, 

A beautiful calendar, large and new — 

A country scene with orchard trees. 

And ripened grain that sways in the breeze, 

A lad in a field is cocking hay. 

And a team of bays stands over the way. 

T took me back to my boyhood life, 
So free from all the struggle and strife; 
I seemed to see the quaint farm place. 
And my mother's smile on her sacred face. 
Again I walked through the berry patch 
Where truant briars cling and catch, 
And down the lane to the pasture lot 
Where the bars let down — I haven't forgot, 

I SAT in my swivel office chair, 
And yet husked corn in the morning air, 
And salted the sheep, and helped with the chores. 
Oh, happy was I in the great out-of-doors! 
A messenger came — "A telegram. Sir," 
It was business, of course, which I could not defer. 
So back to my desk, with a weary sigh; 
I had longed for the city — I wonder why. 



By E LLA F L AT T KE LLE R 77 



YOUR GOLDEN WEDDING 

V/'OU have come to the fiftieth chapter 
^ Of a story that's beautifully told, 
Where the pathos and happiness mingle 

With a love that has never grown old. 
And today you are holding the volume, 

And as slowly you turn o'er the leaves, 
You will note that the Memory pictures 
« Are distinct as the architect's frieze. 

ON a few of the pages are teardrops. 
They are records of struggles and sorrows 
Which together you suffered, yet always 

You were hopeful of better tomorrows. 
As we stand and look over your shoulder. 

While the book of your life you review. 
We can see that the shadows were seldom. 

As compared with the skies that were blue. 

VVTE are glad that the joys have exceeded 
^^ The heartaches, the sighs and the tears; 
We are glad you have trusted the Father, 

Through all the events of the years. 
You are virtuous, noble and splendid. 

You are big in your heart and your thought, 
And the world has been helped and uplifted. 

As it learned from the truths that you taught. 

Y'OU have come to the fiftieth chapter, 
* May you add many more to the story. 
That will bring to you heavenly blessings, 

With their wonderful touches of glory. 
You have lived in the sunshine of love, 

And its radiance, kindly and tender; 
It's the love you have kept in your hearts. 

That is crowning your sunset with splendor. 



78 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



CHRISTMAS TIME 

''T'lS the old-time sacred story 

■■• That is told anew today; 
'Tis the light the shepherds followed 

That is showing us the way. 
'Tis the peace that then was given, 

'Tis the love that then was shown; 
'Tis the gift that blessed a manger, 

That today is all our own. 

'T'HROUGH the ages there has echoed 
■*■ Music of the angels' song. 
With its peace and love and gladness, 

Ringing out so pure and strong. 
As we listen to the music. 

May the sweet and heavenly chime, 
Teach us there is joy in making 

All our life a Christmas time. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 



79 



I 



DUTY 

USED to think that duty meant 

An obhgation stern, 
A long, and hard, unpleasant task 

Which I was glad to spurn. 
But now I rather like the word, 

It has a different sound. 
And seems to mean the pleasant things 

With which our Hves abound — 
The kindly way of being good, 

With not a thing required 
But what we ought to gladly do 

To reach the goal desired. 

WE ought to think of cheerfulness. 
And think of patience, too. 
And think of all the helpful things 

Which come for us to do 
As being duties, pleasant ones. 

Which bring their own reward — 
The daily, homely, little tasks 

So small we can't afford 
To let them slip away from us, 

And not respond with heart. 
For that is all that duty means — 

The playing well our part. 

USED to think that duty meant 

A thing to dread and fear. 
Laborious and difficult. 

Exacting, harsh, and drear. 
But now I know that it implies 

The higher, nobler way 
Of doing all the little things 

Which come to us each day. 
And duty calls in cheerful voice, 

But urgently she speaks. 
And pleads with us to do our best — 

Our best is all she seeks. 



I 



80 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



TABLE WARFARE 

A RUMPUS was started; it's hard to tell how— 
-^*' A knife made a cutting remark. 
The pepper got hot when the salt was so fresh, 

And challenged a fight in the dark. 
The rabbit spoke up and it said it was game, 

The mustard (considered so smart), 
Declared it was strong and would easily win, 

And was anxious to have the thing start. 

A FORK stabbed a Murphy right square in the eye, 
''*■ And off stalked the celery then, 
The beets could but beat it, and butter but run. 

While the pork made a dash for the pen. 
The jelly was trembling; the bread was as white 

As a girl who has fainted at school. 
The apples got sassy and ordered the cheese 

To skip and not act like a fool. 

'T'HE eggs made a scramble, you better believe, 

■■■ When they saw that the salad was dressing; 

The corn was so shocked that it covered its ears. 

And prayed for a general blessing. 
The cookies snapped out at the milk which was blue, 

And scolded the beef that got chipped. 
And threatened the pickles for looking so sour, 

And declared that the cream should be whipped. 

'T'HE fighting was fierce; the confusion was worse, 
■*■ And nothing was kept within bounds; 
The sugar of course was as sweet as could be. 

And the coffee alone stood its grounds. 
The hostess appeared, and 'twas sharply she spoke, 

"Oh, what is the reason you clash? 
Now lettuce have peas and go on with the meal!" 

And thus did she settle their hash. 



By E LLA F L AT T KE LLE R 81 



YOUR JOB 

V/OU think the other fellow's job 
' Is better than your own, 
That you have troubles bothering you 

Which he has never known. 
You estimate he makes a month 

What you can make a year; 
He's tipped by someone when to buy, 

While you pay prices dear. 

'T'HE other fellow has a snap, 
■'■ While you do naught but grind; 
He takes an outing every year, 

And leaves his work behind. 
And you are tied both hand and foot 

And cannot quit a day. 
There's not a thing, except a hearse, 

To make you go away. 

X/OU think the other fellow's free 
* From worriment and trouble, 
And you declare it's only you 

Who gets it on the double. 
And that's the attitude you take 

When discontent is high; 
You rashly state you'll change your job 

With any other guy. 

OHO! my friend, it matters not 

^-^ In what you are employed, 

You're bound to find the ups and downs. 

You're bound to be annoyed. 
The business world demands results 

From every line that's going; 
It's not the job, it's only you 

That fails to make a showing. 



82 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE PRESENT AGE 

\\7^ live in an age when advancements are made 
' ' At a marvelous stride, and we pause 
To Consider achievements which man has attained, 

Nor grasp the effect and the cause. 
We undertake tasks and we carry them through, 

Which once seemed absurd to discuss; 
We estimate only in billions today. 

With nary a question nor fuss. 

VI/'E live in an age when the work of the world 
'^ ' Is conducted by men who have learned 
That the biggest of dreams and the biggest of hopes 

Are not to be hastily spurned. 
They cling to their visions and recognize not 

The troublesome things which impede; 
There's nothing so big but what man will attempt — 

And he knows there's a way to succeed. 

"I1/''E live in an age when gigantic affairs 
^ ' Are promoted in forcible ways; 
When man has perfected, through study and toil, 

Inventions which bring to him praise. 
'Tis a wonderful age and we fail to conceive 

The importance of keeping abreast 
With the spirit of progress which seems to prevail 

In this world of increasing unrest. 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 83 



TO BE NATURAL 

Wf^ claim that with our fellowmen 
^^ We're upright, honest, fair; 
That we refuse to cheat and he. 
That all our deals are square. 

V/'ET every day, in little ways, 
* We truly do deceive; 
We dare not act our natural selves, 
Nor speak what we believe. 

AT times the ready heartiness 
'^*- With which we greet a friend 
Is insincere, and yet we speak, 
Lest honesty offend. 

lylT'E do not seem to realize 
^ ^ We're false if we can bluff; 
That deftly-handled, polished words 
Are better in the rough. 

lA/'E'RE guilty of the faithless smile, 
' ^ And use it to conceal 
Our honest, candid, inner thoughts 
And all they might reveal. 

"Vl/'E sacrifice our better selves 
' ^ For what they think and say ; 
We glibly make a frail excuse. 
And turn from truth away. 

YY/'E do these many little things 
^ ' Because we think we must, 
And we alone receive the wrong 
Which seems at others thrust. 

/^H, let us be our natural selves, 
^^ Be open, frank and true, 
And shun deception's hidden ways 
In all we say and do. 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 



HER ROOM 

T LOVE the room where oft she sat and sewed 

■'■ Beside the window seat, 

The little wicker chair, and near, the stool 

On which she placed her feet. 
Her basket holds her uncompleted work, 

Her threaded needle placed 
Where last a stitch was taken in a gown 

That needed to be faced. 
The weary days that stretched their weary hours 

To overlap the night, 
Would find her there. Her patient fingers toiled, 

Nor knew the hours' swift flight. 

T ENTER quietly her room. For months 

■'■ It brought me deepest grief; 

But now, for me to be where she has been 

Brings comfort and relief. 
I talk to her as though she really heard, — 

In fancy she replies. 
And oftentimes I smile, and then again 

The tears are in my eyes. 
And when her roses bloom, I fill her vase 

With fresh ones every day, — 
I like so much to feel, that after all. 

She is not far away. 



By E LL A F LAT T KE LLE R 85 



EVERYWHERE 

rpVERYWHERE, everywhere, something to love, 
^ The beautiful flowers, the stars above, 
The music of birds and the ripple of brooks, 
The spice of the ferns from the hidden nooks. 
The gold of the meadow, the blue of the sky. 
The wing of a bird as it flashes by; 
The rustle of corn and the golden sheaf, 
The glistening green of the lily leaf, 
The hush of the forest, the moonlight's gleam. 
The rainbow arch and the June-time dream; 
The dance of the daisies, the moss in the dell. 
The pink that is seen in the ocean shell. 

rpVERYWHERE, everywhere, something to love, 

-*--' A whisper as soft as the coo of a dove, 

The laughter of voices so childish and sweet, 

The pattering sound of the little feet; 

A hand that is loyal, a kindness shown, 

A beautiful faith which has stronger grown, 

The radiant light of a happy smile. 

The memory gifts for the afterwhile. 

A flower that's faded, a note of the past, 

A photo that's dimmed by the tears falling fast, 

A song of the heart and the words of a prayer — 

Something to love is found everywhere. 



86 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



WHOLE-HEARTED INTEREST 

"D Y taking an interest in people and things 

-'-' The keenest enjoyment is found, 

We learn of the beauties, unnoticed before, 

Which ever in Nature abound. 
We point with delight at the oriole's nest, 

And the cottage that's made by the wren; 
We know of the habits of birds and of bees, 

And the rabbit at home in his den. 

TLJ E who can enter the games of a child 
^'^ With the whole-hearted interest of youth. 
And can heartily laugh with spontaneous joy 

When the children are laughing, forsooth 
Has learned it's a source of an endless delight 

To keep closely in touch with their play, 
And share the exuberant spirit that dwells 

In the heart that is youthful and gay. 

"D Y keeping awake and alert we will find 
■'-' That the power to observe is increased, 
There's nothing so small but a pleasure it brings, 

On which we may royally feast. 
This taking an interest in people and things 

Is mostly a habit, no doubt. 
But valuable knowledge is frequently gained. 

And joys we know little about. 



B y E L L A F L AT T K E L LE R 87 



SOMEBODY CARES 

COMEBODY cares when I'm weary and tired 
^ At the close of a burdensome, tedious day; 
Somebody cares when I'm lonely and sad; 

When the struggles are many along the way. 
And oh, how it helps on the journey of life 

To know there's a shoulder on which I may lean. 
There's many a hill that is steep to be climbed, 

And many a valley of rest in between. 

COMEBODY cares — oh, repeat it again, 

^ Somebody cares — there is comfort and cheer 

In the thought there is Somebody holding my hand 

And leading me on, where there's nothing to fear. 
And I'm never alone on the pathway of life. 

For Somebody's with me, and Somebody shares 
The rugged embankments, the stony ascents. 

And how can I fall, when — Somebody cares? 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 



LIFE'S MEANING 

Y^E form our opinion of life at an age 
' ^ When we scarcely have guessed at its meaning, 
We think it a question of choosing the joys 
Which seem to be ready for gleaning. 
For what do we know of the sorrow and care 
And the trouble and worry and fretting? 
Youth is the time when the pleasures are reaped — 
The pleasures we're never forgetting. 

A S years drift along and experiences come 
■^^ To broaden the range of our vision, 
We seem to grow thoughtful as problems arise, 

And we hold to a firmer dicision 
That sin is our enemy, ever alert. 

And the sorrows and troubles are needed 
To make us unselfish and thoughtful and kind, 

That humanity's cry may be heeded. 

A S nearer we get to the end of the day, 
^'^ The purpose of life grows the clearer; 
Life in itself is more wondrously sweet, 

And the comfort of love is the dearer. 
The glorious message the Gospel contains 

Has taught us how great are the chances 
To understand fully the meaning of life, 

Ere the hour of the sunset advances. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 





SHIPS OF THOUGHT 



'T'HE ships sail o'er the trackless sea, 
*^ Where billows foam and toss and roll; 
With cargo bound for ports afar, 
• They safely reach the distant goal. 

CO ships of thought are daily launched, 
^ Through seas of space they safely sail, 
No rocks are there where breakers roll. 

No white-capped waves, nor sweeping gale. 

17 ROM out the harbor of our hearts 

^ We send our ships of thought, nor guess 

How many knots their records show, 

How great the tonnage they possess. 

/^H, let us choose the cargo well, 
^^ And lade our ships with cheer and joy, 
Then others, when they spy our masts. 
Will cry with gladness, "Ship ahoy!" 



90 ^IMHBHI^B THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE BETTER THINGS 

WE all have a thirst for the things that are 
right, 
And it never, oh, never is quenched 
By the poisonous draught from the goblet of wrong, 
Though we drink till our conscience is drenched. 
We may wander away from the things that uplift, 

And wander away from the truth, 
And carelessly turn from the virtuous deeds 
That we practiced in days of our youth. 
But deep from our hearts there's a longing that 
comes. 
Over and over again. 
For things that are noble and things that are good, 
And things that are helpful to men. 

VTO matter how deeply our lives have been 
-^^ scarred 

By the evils and sins of the day. 
The beautiful things of our past are recalled. 

Though we think they're forgotten for aye. 
It takes but a little to bring them to mind. 

In spite of the years that have drifted. 
And we marvel while gazing at Memory's screen. 

Where pictures are frequently shifted. 
Perhaps it's a flower, or the words of a song. 

Or the sight of a little one's shoe 
That carries us back to the days that are past. 

With a longing for things that are true. 

'T'HE man who is seemingly hardened by sin, 
* With never a pang of remorse. 
Who boasts of his infamous vices and crimes 

Which the devil alone can endorse. 
Will publicly crush every atom of pride. 

And avoid the display of a feeling 
That might, unawares, be revealing the good 

Which he hopes he is wholly concealing. 
Oh, there isn't a life but can somehow be reached, 

No matter how far it may fall; 
A hidden desire for the things that are good 

Lies deep in the heart of us all. 



By ELLA F L AT T KELLER ^^^^^M 91 



HOW OFTEN 

1_I0W often we smile when our body is aching, 

■'•-'■ How often we laugh when our heart is most breaking; 

How often we talk of a joy or a pleasure, 

While deep in our soul is a pain beyond measure. 

How often the hopes of our youth are but seeming, 

The dreams that we had are lived only in dreaming; 

The plans that we made are found not in fulfilling — 

We fail in our strength, though our heart remains willing. 

How often we hide by a gesture or laughter. 

The sorrow we have, and the loneliness after; 

We sing lest our tears may be falling, unbidden. 

And longings, unguessed, will remain ever hidden. 

And thus may we live, that the others, not knowing. 

May catch but the cheer and the joy that are going. 



A CHILD'S PRAYER 

^VVIlTYi trembling sobs she knelt beside her bed, 
^^ "Dear God," she cried, "I cannot pray tonight, 
A lonely, longing hurt is in my heart. 

For — mother's — there — with You. Would it be right 
I wonder, if I kneel and — only — cry? 

You'll understand. I have no words but these, 
No other prayer to make, but just to ask 

If You will give my — love — to mother, — please. 



92 .^^^^H THE ROAD OF LIFE 




SUNSHINE 



I'VE looked afar off on the hillside, 

-^ Where the sunshine was radiantly bright, 

And up rocky sides of the mountains. 

Where it dazzled the purplish height; 
I've seen it sift down through the branches, 

To mellow the depths of the shade. 
And wedge its way under the arbor. 

And spread itself out in the glade. 
I've seen it gild waters so placid. 

And silver the waves of the sea. 
And set little ripples to dancing. 

So joyously happy and free; 
I've watched it make diamonds from dewdrops. 

Make golden the heart of a flower, 
And add all its wonderful glory 

To the rainbow which follows the shower. 

T KNOW of a beautiful sunshine, 
-■• As helpful as that from the skies. 
As warm, and as friendly and tender — 

The sunshine of love in the eyes. 
I know of a beautiful sunshine, 

That makes the heart happy the while, 
For it gives it a cheer and a welcome — 

The sunshine that speaks in a smile. 
I know of a beautiful sunshine. 

That life seems to need all along — 
The comfort of friendliness given. 

The music of laughter and song. 
If we were appraising the value 

Of things which assist in the strife. 
We would find that the highest, as always, 

Would be on the sunshine of life. 



B y E L L A F L AT T K E L LE R 93 



DOING GOOD 

JUST to do good — to be helpful to those 
•-' Who are getting the brunt of the troubles and woes; 
By the smile that is sunny and beaming with cheer 
To encourage the efforts abandoned through fear; 
By the touch of the hand, with its wonderful power, 
To soothe and to heal at the suffering hour. 

JUST to assist on the wearisome road 
*^ The many who stumble while bearing their load; 
To be ready to comfort the heart in distress — 
The heart that despairs in its loneliness; 
To be ready to show you have faith in the one 
Who is making amends for the wrongs he has done. 

JUST to be constant, and steadfast, and true 
•^ To the standard of right as discovered by you; 
To be honest in all of your dealings, and fair. 
And worthy the trust that is placed in your care; 
To realize fully how great is the need 
Of kindness to others, in word and in deed. 

JUST to do good — it's the allness of life — 
•^ The source of the happiness found in the strife,— 
To serve in behalf of humanity's cause. 
Promoting the good, and expelling the flaws. 
There are thousands of chances and thousands of ways 
To do good in the world, through the cycle of days. 



94 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



TO BABY DEAR 

V^OU brought to us a happiness we never knew before, 

* Our fullest, rarest joys have come through you; 
We can't begin to tell you how your life is blessing ours 

With all the little things you say and do. 

'T'HE smiles upon your face are made of sunbeams, baby 

* dear, 

Your eyes of brown are trustful, pure and sweet; 
Your voice is full of music and it brings to us its cheer; 
Your lips are where our kisses like to meet. 

X/OU'RE growing strong of limb and full of buoyant life, 
'^ dear child, 

Your baby cheeks with health are all aglow; 
A happy, blossom-bordered place in which to run and play, 

Is all your little feet have need to know. 

ANOTHER birthday now is here, the second one for 
■^^ you — 

The second, oh, how quickly time has flown! 
With studied care we're trying hard to give you every day 
The things to make you strong when you have grown, 

"IIT'E cannot keep you, if we would, in little baby clothes, 
^^ We know that time its changes always brings; 
We want to make you ready for the coming hour of life, 
When you must put away the childish things. 

'V/'OUR life is full of promise; ours of hope for cherished 

* dreams. 

With hearts of love we'll teach you all we can; 
We want you, baby dear, to be an honest, upright lad. 
And in its finest sense — to be a Man. 



By E LLA F L AT T K E LLE R 95 



HER HAIR 

T 'M thinking of a little girl 
■■• Whose fluffy hair is brown, 
The breezes make it prettier 

A-blowing it around. 
It's very soft and fragrant, 

It's silky it's so fine; 
I've seen it ripple 'round her face 

Like tendrils to a vine. 

'T'HE rich brown tints of autumn 

* Have melted in together 
With added sunset's golden glints. 

And shades of Spanish leather. 
The artist with the master stroke 

As yet has never made 
Her hair of wood-brown colorings, 

In all its wondrous shade. 

'T'HIS little girl may sometimes think 

* That I am only teasing, 
When I admit 'tis best uncombed — 

Disordered curls are pleasing. 
I always have a longing 

(Perhaps she, too, has sensed it), 
To lovingly caress it. 

And lay my cheek against it. 



96 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



M 



B' 



A MOTHER'S LETTER 

Ydear little girl, I am longing 

To see you and kiss you tonight, 
I sit all alone with your picture. 

Here in the evening light. 
Your letter — it reached me this morning, 

And brought me a smile and a tear. 
To think that my child has been honored! 

Oh, mother is proud of you, dear. 
When you were a bit of a lassie, 

The prayer of my heart seemed to be 
To give you a chance in a college, 

Though I knew it would take you from me. 

[UT now that the June-time is climbing 

Up blossomy hillsides of May, 
The time for your coming draws nearer — 

I counted the hours today. 
Unchanged are the scenes at the homestead — 

The wren sings the very same trill, 
The brook in the pasture is joyous, 

Your collie is faithful still; 
The stretch of the clovered meadow 

Is keeping its fragrance for you, 
And down near the path to the orchard 

Are poppies of every hue. 

VI/'HEN I look at the welcome which Nature 
' ' Is planning to give you, my dear, 
I almost forget I am lonesome, 

Forget how I've missed you this year. 
Your room is all ready and waiting. 

We papered it, daddy and I — 
The paper has violets through it. 

The border has trees and the sky; 
Your carpet is brighter — we turned it. 

Your curtains are dainty and new — 
But best among all of the welcomes 

Are the arms that are waiting for you. 



B y E LL A F L AT T K E LLE R 97 



AIR CASTLES 

THHE twilight shadows softly fall 
*^ As weary day slips out of sight; 
The rest and peace of eventide 

Announce the coming of the night. 
The lull and quiet which we feel 

Are for the heart alone it seems, 
And we, in meditative mood. 

Are building castles out of dreams. 

Y^E plan our bungalow of stone, 
^ ^ And furnish it with taste that's rare. 
Exquisite draperies hang in folds. 

And oriental rugs are there. 
Verandas wide abound in flowers. 

And lawns of velvet stretch afar, 
The concrete drives bespeak the fact 

That we possess and drive a car. 

AND when we have the home complete, 
■^^ We plan a trip to sunny lands; 
Our purse is always bulging out 

With funds enough to meet demands. 
And thus we build our castles high. 

And dream our dreams. God help the man 
Who has no meditative mood 

In which to hope, and dream, and plan. 



THE ROAD OF LIFE 



GLADSOME THINGS 

'T'HERE are gladsome things for the heart that sings, 
* Beneath the arch of blue ; 
There are jassamine flowers and leafy bowers 

Where the sunbeams trickle through; 
There are violets sweet, and moss for the feet 

As soft as the pussy willow. 
There's the voice of a child that is tender and mild, 

And the tangled curls on the pillow; 
There's the twilight's gleam and the golden dream 

That is ours for merely the making. 
There's a mother's smile that lingers the while 

And blesses our undertaking. 

T^HERE are gladsome things for the heart that sings, 
■*■ Beneath the arch of blue; 
There is courage strong to resist the wrong. 

And strength from the One who is true; 
There are friendships pure which are made to endure, 

And mem'ries of youth to treasure, 
There's the poet's rhyme for the evening time. 

And the summer's round of pleasure. 
There are words of cheer and smiles that are dear 

To help with the journey through, — 
Wherever you go, you will feel and know 

There is love that awaits for you. 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 99 



FER THE LOVE 0' MIKE 

T LIKE to 'sprise my Uncle Dick — 
■'■ He thinks I'm sech a little tike — 
An' when I jump at him an' "Boo!" 
He laughs an' sez 

'Ter 
The 
Love 
O' 
Mike!" 

"LJ E buyed fer me a dandy ball, 
^^ An' showed me how to throw an' strike, 
An' when he sez I'm better'n Cobb, 
He alius adds 

"Fer 
The 
Love 
O' 

Mike!" 

T HEERD him tell my dad one day 
^ (An' he wuz sorto' laughin' like), 
Thet I wuz sure a little brick, 
An' then he sez 

"Fer 
The 

Love 
O' 
Mike!" 

TF I should die an' go to heaven, 
^ I'll watch my chance an' take a hike 
An' come right back to earth agin, 
Where I kin hear 

"Fer 
The 
Love 
O' 
Mike!" 



100 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



WHEN SHE SMILES 

"I^HEN she smiles I seem to feel 
' '^ A happiness so sweet and real; 
It makes me want my heart to be 
As light as all the joy I see 
When she smiles. 

"lA/'HEN she smiles I seem to know 
' ^ There's not a sunset that can show 
The lights that radiate and gleam 
Within her eyes which dance and beam 
When she smiles. 

AyV^HEN she smiles I seem to hold 
^ ' The riches of her heart of gold, 
And know that life can bring no trace 
Of joy that's sweeter than her face, 
When she smiles. 



By E LLA F L AT T KE LLE R 101 



MEMORIAL DAY 

WE have gathered the flowers from the meadow, 
And the slope of the wooded hill, 
And arranged them in cluster and garland, 

For the city so voiceless and still. 
We have brought them from florist and garden. 

From shrub and from blossoming vine. 
And they tell of our tender devotion. 

In a language that's splendid and fine. 
They are gifts from the heart and are speaking 

The tribute of love we would pay 
To the memory of those who have traveled 

To the Country just over the way. 

'T'O the soldiers at rest in God's Acre, 
^ With deepest emotion we come. 
And bareing our heads as we listen 

To the low muffled sound of the drum. 
We place on their graves 'neath the heavens, 

The flag that they loved and revered. 
The flag they exalted and honored. 

To which, with their lives, they adhered. 
O Nation, how great is thy grieving! 

How heavy, O Death, is thy toll ! 
O Father, bless those who are mourning. 

And strengthen and comfort their soul. 



102 T H E RO AD OF LI FE 



HOW TO LIVE 

"I^E have delved in the mysteries of science, 
^^ And sounded the depth of its claims, 
We have studied historical data, 

And struggled with dates and with names; 
We have mastered the doctrines of Plato, 

Theoretical views we've pursued. 
With the liberal arts we have labored. 

And Latin and Greek we've construed. 
Our conception of knowledge is narrowed 

To the course the curriculums give, 
We've omitted a ponderous subject — 

The study of how we should live. 

TT is not for our brains we're commended, 
-^ At the hour of departure from earth, 
It is not for our fame nor distinction. 

For the test of a hfe is its worth — - 
Its intrinsic worth, and its goodness. 

Its motive, and what it achieved. 
Its emphasis on the importance 

Of living the truths it believed. 
Get knowledge, but get understanding — 

Understanding that teaches to give 
To the needs of the hearts of the people — 

And then you will know how to live. 



By E LLA F LAT T KE LLE R 103 



NEARNESS 

T SEE her face in every star 
■■• That Hghts the sea of blue ; 
I see her face in every flower, 
Of every different hue. 

T HEAR her voice in every song 
^ That comes from throat of bird; 
In all the music of the world, 
It seems her voice is heard. 

T FEEL her touch when petals soft 
* Are brushed against my cheek; 
Her touch is felt when memory 
Brings back the hand I seek, 

A ND night and day, where'er I am, 
"^ Her nearness is a part 
Of all the sweetest joys I hold 
And treasure in my heart. 



104 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE BRAVEST MAN 

'T'HEY talked in a jovial sort of a way 
-'• On the bravest man to be found today. 
A bachelor spoke in contemptible tone, 
"The bravest, I'm sure, that can ever be shown, 
Is the man who will marry; he's daring and bold 
And ought to be given a medal of gold." 

■ T THINK you are wrong," said another guy, 
^ "For the bravest that walks 'neath the blue of the sky, 
Is the man who has courage sufficient to wear 
The first straw hat, while the people stare. 
He has to be brave or he never could face 
The grins and the jeers of a pubHc place." 

'T'HEN a millionaire, with a flourish and skill, 
* Lit his cigar with a dollar bill. 
He blew in their faces a circle of smoke, 
As sort of a prelude, before he spoke. 
"By Jove, you are wrong, and I'm not to be floored, — 
The bravest is he who is driving a Ford." 

T WAS only a stranger. By chance I had heard 

■^ The laugh and the jest of their frivulous word. 

But again and again, for many a day. 

The question arose, "Who is bravest? Say!" 

I decided 'tis he, who with friend or foe. 

In the face of derision can answer "No!" 



By ELLA FL ATT KELLER 105 



REGARDING SPRING 

I'VE always said I wouldn't write an ode to Spring, 
■'■ It's quite a joke to even think of sech a thing, 
Fer Spring has been the laughing stock of every page, 
Since amateurs have tried to do the work of sage. 
But when the green is popping out on bush and tree. 
And throats of birds are fairly bursting with their glee. 
It's mighty hard to quell that strange and bubbly feeling 
That starts the ginger in my system outward stealing. 

TF I should write an ode to Spring and sign my name, 
^ The editors would roast me so I'd die of shame. 
I dare not even let them know I'm tempted thus 
To talk about the buzzing bees that make a fuss. 
But how I long to dip my pen in morning dew 
And write about the bursting buds beneath the blue. 
And all the happy things on which my eyes are cast. 
Which tell of Spring. My courage fails, I do not dast. 

ARDELIA Tutt, in choicest words with rapture filled, 
^^ Has talked of Spring until my spine has fairly thrilled. 
Samantha Allen let her do it, sure as pop, 
But she had sense enough to tell her when to stop. 
If I should start to write on Spring in simple rhyme. 
The paper mills would work their forces over time ; 
In chartered cars my work would go as special freight, 
And folks would hint that Kalamazoo should be my fate. 

CO I've decided not to write an ode to Spring, 

^ And strongly feel that it's the right and proper thing 

To publicly announce to you my firm decision. 

And thus escape a certain harsh but just derision. 

readers kind, congratulations now are due 

(And I am very fond of flowers and chocolates, too). 

1 know you'll want to show your hearty gratitude 
To one whose song of Spring is evermore subdued. 



106 THE ROAD OF LIFE 




SOMETHING WRONG 

T^HERE is something wrong if you never can see 
■*■ The beauty that springs from a blossoming tree; 
If you find there is naught to admire in a stream, 
With its musical voice and its languorous dream; 
If the heart that's within you has never been stirred 
By the magical notes of a sweet little bird. 

'T'HERE is something wrong if your soul is immune 
■*• To the voices of Nature, so perfect in tune; 
If you never are thrilled by the sight of a star 
In the ceiling of blue, as it twinkles afar. 
If the radiant joy of the sunset sky 
Has failed to attract, you should question why. 

I'm sure there is something decided wrong 

-'• If you never are moved by the words of a song; 

If your pulse doesn't beat at a quickened pace 

At the sight of a smile on a baby's face. 

There is something wrong if you fail to renew 

The spirit of youth ere your journey is through. 

Y^OU cannot live on in a listless way, 
*■ And share the exuberant joys of the day. 
At the sight and the sound of the everyday things, 
Be sure you're awake with a heart that sings. 
For there's something wrong with your life as a whole 
Unless there's response from the depth of your soul. 



B y E LL A F L AT T K E L L E R 107 



LOVE'S QUESTIONS 

"LJOW can I look at the moonlight 
-■^ When the light of your eyes I can see? 
,How can I hear the birds singing, 

When your voice is but music to me? 

LJOW can I feel the caresses 
*^ Of the summer-time breeze on my brow, 
When the touch of your hand, as it lingers, 
Is the touch that I'm needing, somehow? 

T_JOW can I picture the beauty 
■"^ An artist of Nature can trace. 
While ever before me a vision 
I see of your beautiful face? 

TJ OW can I catch the bright glimmer 
-■^ Of gold in a sunbeam true, 
When all of the gold I am needing 
Is found in the heart of you? 



108 T HE RO AD OF LI F E 



JES' BECUZ 

A ND when I ask the question "Why?" 
-^^ I want an answer in reply. 
It riles me up, it surely does, 
And makes my temper sorto' buzz 
When someone sez, "Oh, jes' becuz." 

TF I am pertinent and bold, 
-*■ It's only right that I be told. 
But civil questions, landy suz! 
Should get an answer better'n wuz 
Ever found in "Jes' becuz." 

pERHAPS the head of me is dense, 
-'■ But I can't see the common sense 
Of folks that think they're really spuz, 
A-letting their old larynx squz 
Those sassy words out "Jes' becuz." 



By E LL A F L AT T KE LLE R 109 



THE OLD COOK STOVE 

I'LL not sing a ditty of things that are pretty, 

•'■ Of things that we see as we rove, 

But I'll do it up pat and I'll throw up my hat 

As I cheer the old tumble-down stove. 
It is battered and shattered, and oh, how it clattered 

Whenever we gave it a poke; 
The griddles are cracked and there's nothing it lacked 

To get it to croak with the smoke. 
The oven won't bake, not a pie nor a cake, 

Its door is all lose at the hinges; 
The firebox before us is frightfully porous, 
While the wood, it chars over and singes. 
The poor old stove — 
The smoky. 
Old, poky, 
And draft-choky stove! 

'T'HE top, I've a notion, is rough as the ocean, 
'^ The grate is all warped in the middle; 
The side has a dent and the poker is bent — 

To use it is solving a riddle. 
There's a reason to kick for the legs are of brick — 

The two that are back in the rear. 
The pipe has been wired and should have been fired, 

For the elbows are crooked and queer. 
The stove is so punk we have turned it to junk; 

It is doomed, it must lay in a heap, 
It long has been used and perhaps been abused, 

But its memory is all we can keep. 
^ The poor old stove — 

The door-creaking. 
Smoke-reeking, 
Ash -leaking stove! 



110 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



A MAN'S GREATNESS 

THHERE are men who are praised for the gaining of wealth, 
■*■ And others, the winning of fame, 
And some on the ladder of social affairs 
Have risen and made them a name. 

'T'HERE are men in the world who have made a success 
* In the business they chose to pursue. 
And have won recognition in countries afar, 
As but few are permitted to do. 

'T^HERE are men of efficiency found at the top, 
■*■ Where talents are widely displayed. 
Where ability counts and persistency wins. 
And great reputations are made. 

"OUT there's one who in greatness surpasses them all, 
-'-' More worthy of praise is no other — 
The man who perhaps to the press is unknown — 
The man who is good to his mother. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 111 



THE REBOUND 

A/OU may practice deceit in its treacherous forms, 
* It's yourself you are harming, 
There's nothing so hard to expel from the heart, 

Nor quite so alarming. 
You may fail to be steadfast and loyal and true, 

But whom do you hurt? 
Not others alone, but your own mortal self, 

I strongly assert. 

V/'OU may steadily wander away from the truth, 
^ And from living aright. 
But sometime or other the sins you conceal 

Will be brought to the light. 
The hypocrite's part you may secretly play. 

And think it unknown, 
But while you are stabbing the heart of a friend. 

You are stabbing your own. 

A ND likewise the help you extend every day, 
"^*- And the good that you do. 
Will always return, in a beautiful way. 

With a blessing for you. 
The good and the bad that you give to the world, 

You, also, will share, 
Whatever you sow, at the harvest you reap — ■ 

The wheat and the tare. 



112 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE FARMER'S PROFITS 

HTHE people in town have a notion 
-^ That farmers are burdened with cash, 
And because of their profits outlandish, 

This country is going to smash. 
They claim that a pig is a bank book, 

And a hen is worth more than a Ford — 
She scratches around for her living, 

And thus it costs naught for her board. 
When eggs in the summer are fifty. 

Sufficient enough is the cause 
For landing, all fours, on the farmer. 

And cussing because of our laws. 
A cow used to bring him a twenty, 

But now, though she's old as the hills, 
With teeth that are broken and wobbly. 

She brings him a fistful of bills. 

'T'HE people in town have a notion 
*■ That farmers reap nothing but gold; 
They plant and then wait for the harvest — 

Their profits too great to be told. 
Oh, look at the wheat he is threshing — 

A kernel is valued a dime — 
And yet we permit him to rob us, 

His graft should be punished as crime. 
His orchard yields many a bushel. 

He forces the prices to soar. 
And we who are helpless are paying 

A quarter for wormhole and core. 
And what does he know of expenses? 

He lives on his chickens and beans, 
And hence it is costing him nothing — 

His money can go in his jeans. 

f~\ HO! Mr. Townsman, you're biased! 
^-^ By whom were you given instruction? 
You fail in your figures to mention 

The terrible cost of production. 
For help that is scarce we are paying 

Four dollars, nor does it include 
The board we must give, and I reckon 

We cannot raise all of our food. 



B y E LL A F L AT T KE L LE R 113 

The prices enormous you mention 

Are not what are given to us — 
Investigate middlemen's profits, 

When feehng Uke starting a fuss. 
Our crops are controlled by the weather, 

We never are sure of our pelf; 
If you think we've a snap, Mr. Townsman, 

Then why don't you try it yourself? 



MY CREED 

nnO watch for ways of being kind, 
•*■ To keep the helpful things in mind, 
To let the merry smile appear, 
To speak the sunny word of cheer; 
To search for good in others' eyes, 
To learn the joy of sacrifice. 
To be a loyal, trusty friend, 
To prove that love can know no end ; 
To grapple work with courage strong, 
To cheer the right, condemn the wrong, 
To stifle every selfish aim. 
And keep ideals of life the same. 



WAR POEMS 



116 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



(Written for the Reunion of the 18th Michigan Infantry, held at 
Adrian, IVlichigan, August, 1919.) 



ANSWERING THE CALL 

'T'HE call was "To Arms! " and the Michigan boys 
■*• Of the 18th Infantry came; 
The column that marched was a thousand strong, 

And honored and praised was its name. 
The recruiting was done; they were mustered out 

In August of '62, 
In the North and the South there were none to be found 

More spirited, loyal and true. 

'T'HE Colonel in charge was a Hillsdale man, 
-*■ Mr. Doolittle, held in regard. 
Whom no one could check in his splendid defense, 

And no one his progress retard. 
The Hon. Waldron presented a flag. 

Of the finest material known. 
The regiment cheered at his eloquent speech, 

And thus was allegiance foreshown. 

HP' WAS down in Kentucky their fighting began, 
■'■ With fire in their veins they withheld 
The attempt to advance which the enemy made. 

And skirmish and battle were quelled. 
They reached Alabama, and actively served 

At Decatur where Hood was defeated, — 
Wherever they went they were dashing and brave, 

And seldom by loss were they greeted. 

TN Confederate prisons a dozen had died, 

■*■ A number were killed on the field. 

To wounds and disease there were some who succumbed- 

'Twas only by Death they were healed. 
And some on the steamer Sultana were drowned, 

A tragedy such that we pause, — 
There were none on the roll who were braver than these 

Who had given their lives for the cause. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 117 



TN the year that has passed there were comrades old 

-'■ Of the 18th Michigan braves, 

Who finished the battles of life and were laid, 

With deepest respect, in their graves. 
No bugle can ever arouse them again, 

Nor sound of the fife and drum, 
For they, as in days of old '62, 

Have answered the call to come. 

Y\/E would pay them a tribute, and honor their name, 
^ ' The flag we would lower a half. 
Its glorious folds we would fling to the breeze. 

To ripple midway from the staff. 
Nor would we forget that a tribute is due 

To the veterans brave who are here, 
They live in our hearts, and we earnestly pray 

They be spared to us many a year. 



118 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



SHOULDER TO SHOULDER 

CHOULDER to shoulder we're fighting today, 

'^ Shoulder to shoulder, there's no other way; 

And whether we're called to go over the sea, 

Or whether the work that's for you and for me 

Is here in the shipyard, the field or the shop. 

We'll stick to our post and not falter nor stop 

Till the last sound is heard from the mouth of a gun. 

Till the last battle's fought, and the last victory's won. 

CHOULDER to shoulder, O Yankees in France, 
^ Shoulder to shoulder, you bravely advance; 
Remember you're backed by the Stars and the Stripes 
Which bind you and hold you in firmest of gripes. 
We're proud of the victories of which we have heard. 
And over the sea we are sending you word 
That the people at home have grown stronger and bolder, 
They fight by your side, and it's — shoulder to shoulder. 



B y E L L A F L AT T K E L L E R 119 



TO THOSE AT HOME 

WHAT does it matter if prices are steep 
And you're spending so much that there's little to keep? 
If your hat is passe and your shoes have been patched, 
And the toes have been stubbed and the heels have been 

scratched? 
What does it matter if flour's hard to buy? 
There's bread made of bran and alfalfa and rye. 
The soldiers have need of the best we can give, 
Don't kick on the change in the way you must live. 
Oh, shame on the one who would grumble and grunt 
When life is far harder for those at the front. 

A^HAT does it matter if plans are upset? 
'^ '^ If vacations are dreams and the dream's all you get? 
If you can't take your outing then cancel your trip. 
And rejoice that you're not on a war-fated ship. 
What does it matter if work's on the double? 
Your work is the least of the world's mighty trouble. 
To live in indifference is selfishness right. 
And Uncle Sam pleads that you join in the fight. 
You're staying at home and you're missing the brunt 
Of the blow that must fall on the boys at the front. 

VIT'HAT does it matter? — these trivial things — 
^ ' Compare them with war and the horror it brings. 
He who's at home to his flag is not true 
Unless he will do all the things he can do; 
Will sacrifice much to buy thrift stamps and bonds, 
Thinking less of his eats and the things that he dons. 
Then throw back your shoulders and toss up your head, 
And don't be a shirk, be a fighter instead. 
You're staying at home, but hark! there's a call, 
And the call is for help to win freedom for all. 



120 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



A MESSAGE TO THE ALLIES 

YY/E'VE heard the call, we've heard, we've heard, 
' ^ The urgent, mighty call ; 
We'll do our part where ere it be, 
In air, in trench or out at sea. 

And nobly stand or nobly fall, 

For naught's too great and naught's too small, 

And naught of loss do we forestall, — 

We answer with our country's all. 

'C'ROM store and shop we come, we come, 
*• From ofhce, street and field; 
We leave our work for other hands. 
And gladly go to troubled lands, 

Our power and strength to wield. 

And not till all the hurts are healed, 

And not till promises are sealed 

Will we return to shop and field. 

/^'ER the waves we come, we come, 
^-^ O'er the waves so deep; 
With shoulders back and head upright. 
With dauntless courage for the fight, 

We come with promises to keep. 

And though the way be hard and steep. 

The Yankee blood flows true and deep. 

With only Victory in its sweep. 



By ELLA FLATT KELLER 



121 



IS THIS GLORY? 

'T'HE kings and the rulers of Europe 
■'■ Are seeking political gain ; 
The existence of countless militia 

Has brought on a mighty campaign. 
They boast of the growth of their navies, 

The training of armies of men, 
Which represent nothing but warfare. 

And where does the glory come in? 



T 



HE meadows are seared by the cannon, 

And drenched by the blood of the brave; 
The homes are deserted and pillaged, 

Not a thing that is sacred is saved. 
The bridges are torn from abutments. 

There's ceaseless and horrible din. 
The destruction of life is appalling! 

And where does the glory come in? 

'T'HINK long of the heartbreak of women, 
^ Of pitiful things they can tell — 
Oh, wrongs are not righted by cannon. 

By angry explosion of shell! 
If nations would prosper and flourish. 

With weapons of peace they must win. 
For peace brings advancement and justice. 

And that is where glory comes in. 



122 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE SOLDIER AT HOME 

TT is right, we should honor the soldier, 

* We should talk of the deeds he has done. 

We should tell how he fought in the battles. 

And sing of the victories won; 
And again, as the call of the Nation 

Is heard from the coast to the coast. 
We should honor the boys who enlisted. 

Of the loyalty shown we should boast. 
When a regiment proudly is passing. 

We should give it the patriot's cheer. 
While the strains of the martial music 

Are resounding in hearts that are dear; 
We should listen to songs and to speeches, 

And to bells from the steeple and dome, 
It is right, we should praise the enHsted — 

But what of the soldier at home? 

'T'HE mother is soldier and hero, 

* From the time she gave birth to her son. 
She instinctively strove to protect him. 

And shuddered at sight of a gun. 
But she rises to meet the occasion, 

And with thoughts of herself set aside. 
She gives, at the call to the colors. 

Her treasure, her hope, and her pride. 
It means that additional burdens 

Will fall on her shoulders and heart; 
It means she is serving her country. 

And is doing, with courage, her part. 
And whether the boys are in trenches. 

Or sailing the billows of foam, 
I cheer them; and also I'm cheering 

The mother who's serving at home. 

' 'T'HE burden of war is for woman, 

* The work of the war is for man;" 
For woman, the anguish of waiting — 

Describe it if ever you can. 
The weariest days are the newsless, 

And the vigilant hours of the night 
Are spent in a prayerful entreaty 

For the boys, and the flag, and the right. 



By ELLA F LATT KELLER i£5 

The wives and the sweethearts and mothers 

Who are left in the home have to face 
The privations and struggles and heartaches — 

May the Lord give them courage and grace. 
While here's to the boys who enlisted — • 

No matter wherever they roam; 
I add a salute to the soldiers, 

To the brave little soldiers at home. 



I 



QUESTIONS OF WAR 

S war a phase of progress thinking men endorse, 
While agony, anguish and sorrow run rife? 
Does progress born of peace know aught of keen remorse? 

It is peace that considers the value of life. 
Should man retard advancements, great achievements 
check. 
By letting the heroes in trenches be slain? 
Who dares to call it progress? — homes and hearts a wreck, 
And the pulses of nations a-throbbing with pain. 

TS war a studied game contesting skill and strength, 
■'■ Which the nations are breathlessly playing today? 
Is war a proof of valor only known at length. 

Where the manhood of nations is lost in the fray? 
Who dares to speak of glory, honor or renown. 

While the prayers of the mothers are pitifully hurled? 
The laurels for the victor will make a blood-drenched crown, 

At a price that will startle and stagger the world. 



124 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



NOT TILL IT'S OVER 

\ RE we going to stop fighting the Germans and Huns? 
■^^ Are we going to stop making munitions and guns? 

Not till it's over! 
Are we going to make fewer of warships and planes? 
Haul more than essentials by trucks and by trains? 
Stop planting our fields to abundance of grains? 

Not till it's over! 

A RE we going to stop training our boys at the camps? 
■^^ Stop giving our money for bonds and for stamps? 

Not till it's over! 
Are we going to object to the corn for the wheat? 
Object to the system of handling the sweet? 
And to going without when it comes to our meat? 

Not till it's over! 

VIT'ILL the Yankees return to their dear ones at home? 
^ ^ Will they throw up the job and again cross the foam? 

Not till it's over! ■ 
They'll fight through the thick of the smoke and the din, 
They'll fight till there's nothing to gain nor to win, 
Till the Stars and the Stripes are afloat in Berlin — 

And then 'twill be over! 



By E L L A F LAT T K E LLE R 125 



A SOLDIER'S DYING WORDS 

"'T'HE scenes of my life have been passing 

-■■ On Memory's screen as I lay 
Here with the rest of the soldiers, 

Who were hurt in the thick of the fray. 
•I seemed but a slip of a toddler, 
And carried a little toy gun. 
And said I was marching to battle — 

To me it was nothing but fun. 
But mother, she kissed me and trembled, 

My dad was a soldier, you see. 
And he had been killed in the army, 
And now she has no one but me. 

"T^HEN all was a blank for a moment, 

■*■ Till pictures were changed on the screen- 
And nurse, I've been back to the cottage, 

Familiar to me was the scene: 
The hollyhocks grew by the fences. 

The roses were bursting in red, 
The roses — no thank you, no water, 

I'll drink of their fragrance instead. 
And there — by the gate — was my mother — 

She always — had — smiles that — she gave- 
Oh, tell her— I died— for Old— Glory, 

And — tell her — like — dad — I was brave. 



126 THE ROAD OF LIFE 



THE MESSAGE OF PEACE 

(~\ii, sing it and shout it — the message of peace — ■ 
^-^ The ring of its echo is never to cease ! 
When first it was heard by the turbulent world, 
There were deafening cheers; there were flags unfurled. 
It was screeched by the whistle and clanged by the bell, 
The message was shouted from mountain and dell; 
It tore through the air on the voice of the gun. 
Announcing the fall of the German and Hun. 

'T'HERE are thousands of mothers from coast to coast 
* Who have given their sons to the militant host; 
And tense was the waiting, and filled with a dread 
Lest word be received that they numbered the dead. 
Anxiety now is a thing of the past, 
The horrible fighting is over at last. 
The mothers are smiling and crying for joy. 
For the message of peace tells of — home for the boy. 

'T'HERE are thousands of fathers so noble and fine 
■*■ Who have sacrificed sons for the firing line. 
And proudly they sent them, in uniform clad; 
They await the returning with hearts that are glad. 
Wherever a star is in window or door. 
The throb of the heart has been quickened the more 
By the message of peace — it's the best we could choose — 
The world is hurrahing; is wild with the news! 

'T'HERE are thousands of children who pause in their play 
■'■ To add to the clamorous noise of the day. 
Though little they know of the meaning of war, 
And little they know what the fighting was for. 
In many a nation and many a tongue. 
The message of peace is the message that's sung. 
The decision was made, it was PEACE to declare, — 
We thank Thee, O Lord, for the answer to prayer. 



